


The Last Heir

by joongz



Series: Days of Past Darkness [3]
Category: ATEEZ (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Harry Potter Setting, Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe - Hogwarts, M/M, Pining, Pranks and Practical Jokes, Slow Burn, choi san and the wide spectrum of his emotions, no need to have extensive knowledge of the harry potter universe, prepare for long segments of yearning .
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-01
Updated: 2020-11-26
Packaged: 2021-03-07 16:33:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 45,989
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26560714
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/joongz/pseuds/joongz
Summary: When Choi San, the lonely Slytherin, accepted Kim Hongjoong's offer to help him with the pranks against Park Seonghwa, he did so thinking it would be a fun experience—get his revenge and make new friends—not that he'd fall in love with Jeong Wooyoung, the prideful Gryffindor.(Or, aWhen Ghosts Cryspin-off, in which San isn't a ghost.)
Relationships: Choi San/Jung Wooyoung, Kang Yeosang/Song Mingi, Kim Hongjoong/Park Seonghwa
Series: Days of Past Darkness [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1631374
Comments: 59
Kudos: 235





	1. The Lonely Slytherin

**Author's Note:**

> Hello!!!  
> This will be the last part of my Ateez Hogwarts series!! 
> 
> Please note:  
> \- This is a [When Ghosts Cry](https://archiveofourown.org/works/21669898/chapters/51677575) spin off, so the events regarding Jongho don't happen here, and while Mingi _is_ a werewolf here too, his Maker is already in Azkaban. Basically, what I'm trying to say is, there won't be any major angst in this one lmao  
> \- You don't need to read WGC since this story is different, but there are some references to it  
> 

The story of the lonely Slytherin started the end of his fourth year at Hogwarts. It was with a bang, _literally_ , when a Bludger hit the side of his shoulder, knocking him off his broom and precipitating him down, down, down toward the sand at the bottom of the Quidditch pitch. The collision never came as Im Sangah, _Flying_ Professor and Quidditch referee, casted a suspension spell to prevent the ugly, bone crushing collision. The nerves and fear knocked the Slytherin out the moment he softly landed on the sand.

A fading, blurry cacophony of yelling and cheering coming from the stands accompanied him into unconsciousness.

He dreamed of the day he lost his parents. He had only been a child, clutching his cousin’s hand tightly as they walked away from Courtroom Ten on Level 10 of the Ministry of Magic. Over the past twenty years it had become a known courtroom for cases of Death Eaters and ex-Death Eaters. The lonely Slytherin’s parents were in between those. 

_Another notorious pair of Death Eaters sent to Azkaban._ The headline in the _Daily Prophet_ had read a day later. Choi Yeona had torn the paper apart and used it for the fireplace. 

“They weren’t your parents,” she had told the young Slytherin—at the time he hadn’t been a Slytherin yet, just a kid with murderers for parents. “I’m your family. This is your home now.”

It had been his home for many years already, that hadn’t changed much after the hearing.

The moment it _changed_ , coincidentally, was the day he had become a Slytherin. It had gone a little like this: a dusty, old hat placed atop his head by Professor Yoo Yeojoo had talked in his head.

 _Ah, what a bright mind,_ the Sorting Hat had said with a raspy tone. _Almost all the makings for a Ravenclaw; but that’s not quite it, is it now?_

The young boy had stayed quiet, unsure if he was meant to talk or not. After all, what did he know about himself? He was only eleven.

 _I sense a deeper sense to proof yourself worthy and find your way—not just here at Hogwarts. You refuse to let your past define you. You are ambitious and loyal. Someone like you should be…_ “Slytherin!”

 _Slytherin_. 

Somewhere in Yeona’s closet there were her old Hogwarts robes, the silver and green crest sown to the front of her sweatshirt. She never had finished her studies after the war, leaving that world and her family behind, for the exception of Choi San.

“Do you think he died?” a deep and raspy voice wondered worriedly.

“He’s clearly breathing,” another voice replied, it was melodic.

“If he was dead they wouldn’t just have him lying out in the open. Madame Eunji wouldn’t have let us into the Hospital Wing,” a third voice came. It seemed to be the most reasonable one.

“He looks pretty rough…” the deep voice said.

“Try getting hit by a Bludger!” the melodic voice scoffed. “Oh, wait you have!”

“And who do I have to thank that for?”

“Not me. That’s on you for being a lousy flyer!”

“Guys, shut up! He’s waking up,” the reasonable voice shushed the other two.

When Choi San blinked his eyes open he was greeted by three familiar yet unfamiliar faces. He had seen them around, of course, after all they had shared many classes in the past four years together at Hogwarts. With the exception of a few shared assignments and group projects, he had never really talked to them though.

To say he was surprised to find them by his bed was an understatement.

“Uh,” he groaned out. There was something more he wanted to say, but his tongue felt heavy and his mind was fuzzy. “What happened?” he croaked out, trying to sit up.

“Don’t. Madame Eunji said you should rest,” the reasonable voice said. It turned out to be a Gryffindor, tall and with very kind eyes—puppy like.

“You got hit by a Bludger,” said the boy with the deep and raspy voice. He was tall as well, but a Hufflepuff. The expression on his face was unreadable, if slightly annoyed. “Seo Changbin got you pretty good,” he added.

“Professor Im saved you in the last moment,” the last voice said. He wasn’t tall—San inwardly let out a sigh of relief, for a moment he had thought whatever accident had happened to him had made him shrink into a pea. 

San knew this last boy’s name: Kim Hongjoong. He was Hufflepuff’s pride, a literal genius, and a known prankster. That last attribute was only true when it came to his nemesis, Park Seonghwa, all the things Hongjoong was but in the Ravenclaw house. 

Now that San was recalling the Quidditch game—the abysmal loss Slytherin had delivered in the face of the powerhouse that Ravenclaw was—the memories of the Bludger hitting him, the sensation of falling, and finally the loud noises all around him came back.

He winced.

“Slytherin lost, didn’t we?”

The three boys exchanged a look. “Yes,” said the tall Hufflepuff. Song Mingi, if San was remembering correctly. “Horribly.”

Which made the Gryffindor Jeong Yunho; probably the only reasonable friend in their little triumvirate.

San let out a long sigh, closing his eyes. “ _Shit_.”

“Hey, it’s okay. Your team members are not that angry,” Hongjoong tried to console him.

“They’re not here, are they?”

Another long silence.

“No, but—” Hongjoong tried again, failing to find comforting words.

“ _We_ are here!” Yunho tried, optimistic. 

San opened his eyes again. “Why are you anyway?” he asked, hoping he didn’t sound too rude.

“It wasn’t my idea,” Yunho immediately said, then winced. “I mean… Their proposal is a bit—You’ll see.”

“We were thinking, after Ravenclaw did you dirty like that, if you would want to take revenge on them?” Hongjoong offered. “You know I despise Park Seonghwa. We could use all the help we can get. If you’re up to it, you could join us and ruin the Ravenclaws, once and for all.”

San thought about it.

He didn’t personally know Park Seonghwa or Kang Yeosang, the two infamous Ravenclaws that had an ongoing prank war with the two Hufflepuffs. They often got help from their Gryffindor friend, Jeong Wooyoung—a short, temperamental and angry boy with glasses and a past as dark as San’s own—and a Slytherin a year younger than them, Choi Jongho—he didn’t seem too bad. San had met Jongho on many occasions, being housemates and all. If he was honest, Jongho was one of the few Slytherins he actually got along with.

He didn’t really have anything against the Ravenclaws and their friends, but his shoulder hurt and he felt so humiliated; how was he supposed to face his Slytherin team mates again? How was he supposed to walk down Hogwarts’s corridors with the green and silver crest on his chest, chin held high, if they all hated him—if he was a loner?

Without thinking, he replied, “I’ll join you.”

Hongjoong’s eyes lit up. “Awesome!”

“Oh, boy…” Yunho muttered.

Mingi smiled, which was a rarity. Now that San saw it he realized he had never seen it before. “You won’t regret it,” the tall Hufflepuff promised.

“I hope I won’t,” San muttered.

Preoccupied footsteps approached. “Boys! Don’t tire him out!” Madame Eunji chastised them. “Mr Choi, how are you feeling?”

“Better,” he admitted; it wasn’t a lie. He really did feel better, maybe for the first time since coming to Hogwarts.

“That’s good,” she moved to the night table by San’s bed, rummaging through different potions. She handed him one. “Down with it. _Don’t_ spit it out,” she warned him. “I know it doesn’t exactly taste like a treat from _Honeydukes_ , but you’ll need it if you want your strength back.”

The two Hufflepuffs and the Gryffindor stared at San with wide eyes. It felt like a test, for some reason, so San downed the concoction, squeezing his eyes close. He didn’t spit it out. He smiled proudly at them.

“You already look less like a ghost,” joked Hongjoong.

“Thanks,” San replied dryly.

From that day on, Choi San walked with the Hufflepuffs and their Gryffindor. At first it didn’t change much with the exception of San chatting with them before their classes, getting invited to sit with them during breakfast, lunch, and dinner, and of course spent his free time with them or study in the Library together—getting yelled at by the librarian, Do Kyungsoo, when they got too loud. 

The last couple of weeks at Hogwarts were like a dream to him, he finally felt like he really belonged in that large castle with too many secrets hidden in its walls. 

The moment it really did hit San that he was part of Hongjoong’s group was the last day of their fourth year, when all students and some of the staff were gathered at the Hogsmeade Station to catch the Hogwarts Express.

It was a hot summer day in June, he was dressed in a simple white t-shirt and baggy shorts, struggling to get his Siamese cat, Star—really, she was more of a diabolical creature than a cat, perhaps San should ask their _Care of Magical Creatures_ Professor about her real identity—into her cage so she could be placed in the compartment with all the other pets.

Someone walked speedily past San, bumping shoulders together—his injured shoulder. It had healed, mostly, over the past weeks, but the collision did spark a flare of pain.

“Ow,” he hissed, nearly losing control over his cat. Star hissed back at him. 

He tried to see who it was that had bumped into him, but another person shouldered past him and suddenly something wet and dark exploded in San’s face. He yelped, letting go of his cat, and staggered backwards.

“Oh, no, my bad,” he heard someone say. The voice was rather high pitched, mischievous sounding, and at the same time as melodically as a clarinet. San knew if he opened his eyes he would find someone standing there that could share Star’s diabolical lineage. 

When he did open his eyes— _barely_ , the ink was all over his face—he first saw a very large nose holding a pair of thin framed glasses, and deep brown eyes, long and thick eyelashes making them look deeper. As the voice of the owner, they were filled with mischief and maybe a little arrogance. Pitch black hair framed the face of the student.

San forgot to speak because, although this stranger just had, from the looks of it, purposefully let ink explode in his face, he was faced with an entirely different dilemma. This boy, this _stupid_ boy, was grinning cockily at San. 

And the only response San’s heart thought to give was skip a beat.

“Fuck off, Jeong,” said Mingi, coming to San’s rescue. “Go mingle with the Little Ice King or whatever it is that you do.”

“You know, whenever you use his family name, I can’t help but feel a little offended,” said Yunho, but he too was glaring at the mischievous boy. 

Hongjoong was the last to join them, wand in one hand, Star in the other. He flicked his wand, muttering a spell under his breath. Suddenly all the ink was gone and San could _actually_ stare at the boy that had done this to him.

Jeong Wooyoung.

He couldn’t believe his heart had skipped a beat over Jeong Wooyoung: obnoxious Gryffindor, evil prankster, and most importantly San’s _enemy_. When San had joined Hongjoong’s side, they had told him that now everyone that helped Park Seonghwa was automatically San’s enemy.

Jeong Wooyoung, who San had first taken notice of during their Sorting Ceremony nearly five years ago when Wooyoung, against all odds and expectations, had been sorted into Gryffindor and not Slytherin. The whispers that had followed this event, especially at the Slytherin and Gryffindor tables, had been anything but friendly. San had had a rough start at Hogwarts himself and barely had given Wooyoung much of his attention, but he had heard the many rumors surrounding him. How he had been bullied throughout his first year, standing his ground fiercely and angrily. Followed by Park Seonghwa, who had scared away his bullies. Then Jeong Wooyoung had become part of the Ravenclaws, attached by the hip. 

They moved like one, acted like one, probably even shared the same thoughts.

“Thank you,” San addressed Hongjoong, relieved that he wouldn’t have to get changed so closely before the departure of the Hogwarts Express. Then he faced Wooyoung, who was still standing there, Choi Jongho by his side. The younger Slytherin looked a little guilty over the mishap, giving San a small, apologetic smile. “What was that for?”

Wooyoung’s cocky smile only grew, as if he had been waiting for this question. “Take it as an introduction. You’re Choi San, aren’t you?” San nodded his head, squinting his eyes. “I definitely will remember you now.” San’s gaze flickered over to his friends, who all seemed to be ready to fight Wooyoung—and Jongho. “You’re now part of the Hufflepuffs. This is what happens. Get used to it.”

San opened his mouth, but no sound came out. He felt a little off center. _You’re now part of the Hufflepuffs_ , he found he didn’t exactly mind this statement—a place to belong to—but the way Wooyoung said it, made it sound like a big mistake.

“We should go before Seonghwa wonders where we are,” Jongho said, tugging at Wooyoung’s sleeve.

Wooyoung held San’s gaze for a moment, calculating. “I guess I’ll see you around.”

“What an asshole,” spit out Mingi.

“I’m just glad it’s summer,” Yunho exhaled. “No pranks, no bullshit for two and a half months.” He closed his eyes as if in bliss. 

“Sorry, I probably should have warned you,” said Hongjoong, handing San his cat back. “Part of—Well, part of helping me comes with receiving pranks and dealing with their unpleasant asses.”

“I wouldn’t call their asses unpleasant—” Mingi spoke up.

“Shut up!”

“It’s okay,” San assured Hongjoong. “I was just caught off guard. I’ll be prepared from now on.”

“That reminds me,” Hongjoong said, exchanging a meaningful and important look with his two friends, “there’s another thing… It’s not really—It’s not an issue, just a little secret. Since you’re part of our group now, maybe we should tell you— _show_ you.”

“I think showing him might not be that good of an idea,” Yunho said.

“I would prefer telling him beforehand too,” Mingi added. “It’s not really a pleasant sight.”

“Mingi,” Hongjoong protested, equally angry and sympathetic. He struggled to get his following words out, “No matter how much you seem to believe so, you’re not a monster.”

Mingi didn’t reply. His face unreadable as always, tilted up towards the scolding sun. He stared right at it for a moment, blinking repeatedly.

“Come on, let’s go. We can talk more about it in the train,” he said.

Yunho patted Mingi’s shoulder twice, gently squeezing it.

San didn’t know what heavy secret these boys were guarding, but he was excited to find out, to become another holder and bearer of this secret. It felt like another test they were giving him, if he really belonged with them. San wanted to prove he did; he _knew_ he did.

**~*~**

It was a humid night in early August, a few weeks after they had received their exam scores and a few weeks before they would be back at Hogwarts, that San discovered a little bit more about the true meaning of friendship. 

The night he ran with the werewolf. 

Even if Mingi had told him that he was a werewolf—he had been bitten at a very young age, losing his parents in the process, then lived with his heartless aunt, until finally Yunho’s family had taken him in as one of their own—it was nothing like seeing Mingi _actually_ become less and less human in front of his eyes until he was a wolf. Bigger than normal wolves and with a strange looking snout, his ears were not quite like those of a wolf, and his four limbs were longer somehow. 

A strange creature; but his eyes were still Mingi’s.

“He won’t bite you,” Hongjoong said with a laugh when San just stared at the werewolf, mouth agape. “He has never hurt anyone. Yunho takes care of his _Wolfsbane_ potions.”

“I…” But he still didn’t have words.

“That’s not all,” Yunho said sheepishly. “We’re Animagus. Hongjoong and I.”

“What,” San deadpanned, eyes widening further if that was even possible. “You’re—But you’re fifteen. That’s advanced magic!” he finally managed to say, indignantly and a little impressed—and a little jealous too. “Not to mention it’s _illegal_!”

“We couldn’t just leave him alone,” said Hongjoong, simply. “We couldn’t have him endure this every month, alone.”

“We knew the risks,” Yunho added. “It wasn’t even a question if we would do it, just a figuring out _how_ to.”

“Yunho is a literal genius when it comes to this stuff.”

“I’m… speechless. Literally,” San muttered. “Why did you trust me with this?” he wondered after a while. He knew it was a test, but it was so big, so dangerous… 

It overwhelmed him to think they had trusted him so easily, so quickly, and so unconditionally.

“Well…” Hongjoong cleared his throat awkwardly. “We, uh, kind of wanted to become your friend for a while, but you’re really intimidating and unapproachable. We were scared of you.”

“What?” San sputtered, surprised.

“Then the Bludger incident happened. When we saw that no one—That you were alone in the Hospital Wing, we seized the opportunity,” Hongjoong continued.

“We decided that your eyes are a friend’s eyes, so we trusted you,” Yunho added.

“That’s… That’s kind of corny,” San told him. “But thank you for trusting me with this. I will guard Mingi’s—and your—secret with my life. I promise this.”

“We know.” Yunho smiled.

“We should go take a run through the forest, or else Mingi will grow restless,” Hongjoong said then, smiling tentatively. 

San smiled back, suddenly filled with an excitement he hadn’t felt in a long time.

“I’ll look entirely crazy walking around with a wolf and—and,” he looked at them, gesturing his hand wildly, “What even are you?”

“I’m a Labrador dog,” Yunho proudly proclaimed.

“I’m a lynx.”

“That oddly suits you both really well.”

The forest expanding near Yunho’s house was so dark when the four boys entered it, but San wasn’t afraid. Not with Mingi, a literal werewolf, by his side. Hongjoong and Yunho had opted against transforming as they didn’t want San to be alone.

San learned about friendships that night, the promises and sometimes risks poured into them, about the unconditional love and trust towards each other, and about that sense of belonging.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> lmk what you think of this 1st chapter!! ^^
> 
> my twitter: @hhhjoong
> 
> \- jack💛


	2. The Prideful Gryffindor

When September the 1st arrived, San almost didn’t want the summer to be over. The excitement of his newfound friendships still lingered on his tan skin and his freshly dyed hair—courtesy of Hongjoong.

The Hufflepuff Prefect now sported a bright red. San, too scared to fully commit, only had allowed Hongjoong to dye a few strands of his dark brown hair, they were now white as snow. Mingi had said it made him look all the more intimidating and mysterious. San wasn’t sure he liked that idea, but perhaps it wasn’t so bad if he was now a target for Park Seonghwa and his friends in the prank war.

“I can’t wait to see Park’s face once he realizes I’m a Prefect now,” Hongjoong said as the four boys took hold of an empty compartment. Next door were a bunch of loud Ravenclaws and Slytherins. 

“And Captain too!” Mingi added proudly.

“I can’t wait to rub it in his face. It’ll be so much fun to deduct points from Ravenclaw.” He rubbed his hands together as he imagined all the possibilities.

San looked down at his own Prefect badge, a little less excited about the whole ordeal. Yeona had been proud of him, throwing him a party in celebration, but San knew it was an enormous responsibility that didn’t come short with a lot of pressure. 

His Slytherin peers barely spoke to him, with the exception of a few—Choi Jongho, Lee Felix, Kwon Eunbin, Son Hyejoo, Kang Mina. The Quidditch Team had been very forgiving too, but those were just a handful of his many Slytherin housemates. How was he supposed to lead them when he didn’t get along with them?

“You alright?” Yunho asked quietly.

“Yes, just nervous about—” he vaguely gestured at the badge.

“You won’t be alone in the duty, don’t worry too much about it.”

Somewhere, after trying out the worst Bertie Beans flavours and Hongjoong doing a little dance as he drew a special edition card from the Chocolate Frogs, the two Hufflepuffs left the compartment to wander around—which just meant they were going to seek out the Ravenclaws and pester them.

“You should come,” Hongjoong said. 

Mingi nodded in encouragement.

San looked at Yunho, the voice of reason. The Gryffindor let out a long sigh, but just nodded his head.

“Don’t do anything stupid,” he begged.

“You know I can’t promise that.” Hongjoong grinned, barely containing his excitement.

If San didn’t know better he’d think Hongjoong had a little crush on Seonghwa; but that was crazy. 

They found Park Seonghwa fairly quick, the compartment he was sharing with his friends wasn’t far from theirs. Jongho wasn’t present, which San was glad about. He wasn’t sure he could actually be mean in the presence of his Slytherin housemate. It felt wrong, especially now that he was a Slytherin Prefect, he believed he had to give a good example.

“Nice eyebrows,” was the first thing Hongjoong said, leaning against the door frame of the compartment. He smirked at the bright yellow eyebrows Seonghwa was sporting.

The Ravenclaw looked up at him, immediately scowling. He appeared to be a little flustered.

“Shut up. It was an accident.”

“It suits you. They’re the same color as Hufflepuff.”

Seonghwa grumbled something under his breath.

“Bold of you to say with that hair,” Jeong Wooyoung snarked.

Kang Yeosang stayed quiet. San had noticed he was a quiet person.

Hongjoong faltered, self consciously tugging at his hair.

“He looks good, unlike Park,” San quickly said to defend his friend.

If the Ravenclaws with their Gryffindor and Slytherin moved as one, so did the Hufflepuffs with _their_ Gryffindor and Slytherin. 

Wooyoung tilted his head. “Choi San,” he said. It was only San’s name, but it sounded like so much more coming from him—like a statement. Only San didn’t know what kind of statement. “You’re still hanging out with these losers?”

San flinched. “You know _nothing_ ,” he hissed.

Wooyoung stayed unfazed. “Feisty.”

“Can’t you leave? We’re like in the middle of something,” finally Yeosang spoke up, glaring at them.

He was quiet, that was a known fact, but he was also extremely good at maintaining an impenetrable face—similar to Mingi, he was almost always unreadable. San understood why Mingi called him the Little Ice Prince. But when he did allow his emotions to reflect on his face it was always with a staggering intensity. Like when the sun shone down on snow, sparking little galaxies. 

His eyes were glowing with irritation. It was scary. He looked like a very angry angel.

“Aw, did we upset the Little Ice King?” Mingi cooed with an annoyingly sweet voice.

Maybe to most Yeosang was an intimidating person, with his impenetrable self and half-Veela blood, but to Mingi it was as if he was a source for endless entertainment.

Yeosang seized up the tall Hufflepuff. “Fuck off, Song. I’m not in the mood for your bullshit right now.”

Even Wooyoung and Seonghwa seemed surprised by his harsh tone.

Mingi only tilted his head, resting it against the compartment’s door frame as he towered over Hongjoong like a protective giant. 

He grinned. “Does that mean there _is_ a time that you are?”

San’s eyebrows shot up at that. He nervously glanced at Mingi. He didn’t know much about the rivalry between Mingi and Yeosang, it was not as loud and infamous as the one between Hongjoong and Seonghwa, but San felt like those words were dancing on a fine line between teasing and flirting.

He kept his mouth shut though.

“We will be on our way,” Hongjoong said. “I only wanted to inform Park that this year will be the year of his downfall.”

“How so?”

“Well, I am a Prefect now.” Hongjoong pointed at the badge pinned on his sweatshirt. “And the Captain of the Hufflepuff Quidditch Team.”

Wooyoung let out a snort, much to Hongjoong’s irritation.

“That’s cute,” the Gryffindor said, his voice dripping with sarcasm. “Seonghwa is a Prefect too. And he also got elected as Captain. Your accomplishments aren’t as special as you think.”

Hongjoong didn’t move, staring at Seonghwa with a caught off guard expression. He opened his mouth and closed it again, obviously flustered at this turn of events. Before any of them could say anything else, someone very purposefully bumped into Hongjoong, making him stumble in his steps. 

“Watch it!” Hongjoong hissed, rubbing his arm.

The tension was broken like a spell. San exhaled a little in relief.

Choi Jongho took a seat next to Wooyoung, glaring at the intruders. His eyes widened a little when they fell onto San.

“Oh. San,” was all he said.

“Jongho.” San nodded his head, giving him a small smile. Jongho hesitantly returned it.

“Let’s leave,” Hongjoong muttered, obviously still hurt and irritated that his plan to intimidate Seonghwa hadn’t worked.

“Couldn’t have asked for a better timing, Jongho,” Wooyoung cheered. “See you losers later.” Wooyoung raised his eyebrows when he caught San staring at him. “What?”

Time seemed to have stopped. San was aware of all the pairs of eyes on him. He swallowed, smiling meekly. He wished he could imitate one of those arrogant smirks Hongjoong or Seonghwa managed to throw at each other.

“Nothing. You’ve just got some of that dye on your own eyebrows,” he finally said, rejoicing in Hongjoong’s chortle as Wooyoung’s hand shot up, his cheeks pink in embarrassment.

“Why didn’t either of you warn me?!” He addressed the Ravenclaws.

“Because he’s lying,” Yeosang said calmly.

Wooyoung’s hand dropped, his mouth forming a perfect ‘o’ shape. He looked at San, mildly shocked. “Oh.” 

“Your face,” wheezed Jongho.

A proud smile fought its way onto San’s face.

“Fuck you,” Wooyoung hissed—it wasn’t clear if it was directed at Jongho or San.

The remainder of the train ride to the Hogsmeade Station went by rather uneventfully. Hongjoong, Mingi, and San rejoined Yunho, who was immersed in a book. He put it down once they were back, listening with practiced serenity to their news, nodding his head here and there.

“I guess you now got a full peek into what this madness entails.” The Gryffindor sighed, looking at San. “Are you sure you still want to do this? You can always join me in my neutral ground.”

San did consider it, but then he remembered that rush of making a fool out of Wooyoung. “No. Sorry. It was way too much fun.”

Mingi clasped a hand around San’s shoulders, patting it proudly. “He’s one of us.”

Yunho grimaced, but it wasn’t actually mean. “Truly.”

Hongjoong opened his luggage to retrieve a small notebook. “Now that you’re one of us, let me show you where the magic comes from.” 

“A notebook?” San questioned, frowning.

“Seriously, Joong? That’s a lame ass pun and you _know_ it,” Mingi complained.

“Just give him this one,” Yunho said.

“I can hear you, you know?”

Before San knew it, they spent the last hour and a half of the train ride brainstorming for pranks to pull on Seonghwa and his friends. Even if Yunho tried hard to stay out of it, he did help them to perfect some of those pranks, always with a regretful pout afterwards.

The Great Hall looked as magnificent as always: the beautiful ceiling reflected the starry sky from outside, candles suspended in the air held up just by magic, the five large tables already equipped with cutlery and plates, only waiting for the food to fill them up. 

San took a seat at the Slytherin table, next to Jongho.

“Sorry about earlier,” the younger said.

“It’s okay. You’re _their_ friend. As long as we can remain friends, somehow, that’s cool with me,” San reassured him.

Jongho’s eyes widened, making him look younger than he was. “Yes. I was scared this would mean we have to prank each other too.”

San laughed. “Merlin, no. I don’t think I have the heart to do that. You’re like a little brother to me.”

They quietened down as Headmistress Min Yoonji began her start of the year speech and soon after Professor Yoo called in the first years to begin the Sorting Ceremony.

As it always happened on his first night back at Hogwarts, San couldn’t fall asleep. That year had started off with more excitement than usual, so his thoughts were racing and on his skin still lingered all the touches and brushes and sensations he had experienced.

He got up quietly, his dorm mates weren’t sleeping by any means, but he didn’t want to be noticed either. He walked out of the Slytherin Common Room, to the Basement where the Kitchens were situated. He had turned it into a tradition to get a hot cup of tea and chat with the house elves if they were still present. 

“A Prefect for a couple of hours and you’re already sneaking around,” a familiar voice drawled out, startling San.

He spun around.

Wooyoung was leaning against the wall, most of him was shadowed as he stood in the darkness. San raised his wand to see him better. He wasn’t dressed in his Hogwarts robes anymore, but instead in loose sweatpants and a comfy looking hoodie. His glasses were resting atop his head, and San realized that his eyes stood out more like this, his eyelashes looked longer and thicker too.

“Unlike you I have the power to actually deduct points from your house for sneaking around,” he said boldly.

“Do it, I dare you.”

San didn’t reply. “What do you want?” he asked instead.

“I honestly just wanted to grab a couple of snacks from the Kitchens.”

“Sure. The Kitchens, which are coincidentally right next to the Hufflepuff Common Room,” San pointed out, eyebrows raised. “And I’m supposed to believe that?”

Wooyoung shrugged, clearly unbothered.

Even if San was following in the paths of his Hufflepuff friends—Hongjoong would probably be really proud of the way he was handling the situation—he couldn’t help but notice that skip of his heart, the same one he had noticed months ago when Wooyoung had made ink explode in his face.

The first time he had properly _noticed_ this prideful Gryffindor.

“Believe what you will, but I’m getting snacks.” With that, Wooyoung walked past San and tickled the pear on the painting that covered the entrance to the Hogwarts Kitchens. “If you’re still here once I’m back, I’ll just assume you’re looking for a fight,” he said, then tilted his head at San, throwing him a very infuriating smirk. “Or maybe in love with me.”

On impulse San’s heart skipped a beat. “Gross,” he said.

Wooyoung shot him finger guns, a very Muggle-like expression. San wrinkled his nose.

“You don’t need to guard the Hufflepuff Common Room,” the Gryffindor spoke up before he was completely gone, his voice was strangely soft then. “It’s a rule we never prank each other on the first night back.”

San hadn’t known that. “I know,” he lied.

He promptly turned around and walked down the corridor, back to the Dungeons. He didn’t want to stay out in the dark corridors of the castle any long, especially not to wait for Wooyoung to come back. 

(He did mourn the lack of a good cup of tea before sleep though.)

His first night as a fifth year student at Hogwarts ended with the whisper of the wind filtering through the cracks of the castle, the quiet giggles of San’s dorm mates, and his cat cuddled up next to him.

For the first time he really did feel at home in Hogwarts.

**~*~**

The first major prank San had the honor of participating in was towards the end of September. The weeks in between they had silly-stringed the Ravenclaws’s dorm; with Yunho’s help they had extracted the flavor of some of the worst Bertie’s Beans and inconspicuously had poured them all over Wooyoung’s food, when the Gryffindor had gone over to the Ravenclaw’s table for a brief moment; San had gotten a little revenge on Wooyoung by exchanging the Gryffindor’s quill for one that shot out ink when it was used; and lastly they had tampered with Seonghwa’s favorite club activity. 

So far September had been quite eventful, and more fun than San had imagined. It was especially entertaining and satisfactory to see cool and arrogant Jeong Wooyoung get embarrassed, his cheeks pink.

The idea for this bigger prank had stemmed from none other than the Ravenclaw house ghost himself: Jeon Jungkook. He was notorious for pranking pretty much everyone at Hogwarts: students, professors, and staff alike. San was sure Jungkook got a free pass for his twinkling eyes and convincing smile.

They had been in the Library under the pretense of doing homework while they tried to come up with a good prank.

“Exchange their robes for Hufflepuff robes?” Jungkook had read out loud. “Lame.”

Hongjoong had startled, covering his notebook. “Spy!” 

Jungkook had cracked a smile. “Relax. I’m here to help because you clearly need to step up your game. I know what the Ravenclaw Prefect has planned.”

“Will you tell us?” San had asked.

Jungkook had tilted his head. “You’re new. I don’t think we have met yet.”

“Choi San. I already know who you are.”

“Of course you do.” Jungkook had grinned hugely. “That’s exactly why you need my help. My pranks precede me. This is all lame.” He had gestured at Hongjoong’s notebook, who had scoffed in offense. “How about you get water balloons and drop them on their heads while they’re sleeping?”

“That’s not… bad,” Mingi had contemplated.

“But it’s not enough,” Hongjoong had complained, still wary about the Ravenclaw ghost.

“Maybe instead of water you fill them with something— _worse_.”

“Honey?” Yunho had spoken up for the first time. “Wait, no, don’t.”

“Not bad.” Jungkook had nodded his head in appreciation. “But I was thinking even worse. Didn’t you extract the flavor of the beans?”

“Yeah…?” The look on Yunho’s face had been enough to know he didn’t like where this was going.

“Now imagine those water balloons are filled with that same gross flavor, but instead it’s converted into smell. They’ll be drenched in those scents—for days!” Jungkook had exclaimed, delighted.

Mingi had looked at Hongjoong, ready to advocate for Jungkook’s plan, but there hadn’t been need to do so, the Hufflepuff Prefect had been sold.

They found themselves sneaking up the Ravenclaw Tower not long after that talk. Jungkook had promised them he’d make sure the door was open so they didn’t have to solve the riddle given by the bronze eagle.

They each held a bag containing several water balloons filled with the extract Yunho had prepared. They had a pretty wide variation: vomit scented, booger scented, dog food scented… And it was just their luck that Wooyoung often slept over at the Ravenclaw Common Room, sharing a bed with Yeosang. They had waited and waited for a night like this to arrive.

Jungkook waved at them from the door.

“It’s all clear!” he whispered in excitement. “I’ll stand guard.”

Hongjoong nodded in appreciation. “Thank you, Jungkook.”

The task itself was easy. Hongjoong was good at non-verbal spells, levitating several water balloons over the unsuspecting Ravenclaws and their Gryffindor. Mingi and San stood ready, each clutching a water balloon in their free hands.

“On three,” Hongjoong whispered. “One, two, three!”

Havoc unfolded in the Ravenclaw Tower as surprised cries and sleepy complaints filled it, followed by rushed footsteps out of the Common Room.

“Kim Hongjoong!” Seonghwa’s angry voice came. “You fucking—” But Jungkook’s delightful giggles drowned out his voice.

Hongjoong looked as alive as San felt. Tears in his eyes as he couldn’t contain his laughter. Even Mingi’s usually unreadable face was split with a joyous grin.

“Oh, this was worth the wait,” Hongjoong whispered as they quickly fled.

Seonghwa, Yeosang, and Wooyoung’s footsteps could be heard, but they had been too slow, too surprised. 

“I can’t wait to see their faces tomorrow,” San said as they reached the Entrance Hall.

As imagined—and as Jungkook had promised—the scent of the terrible Bertie's Beans stuck to the two Ravenclaws and the Gryffindor, their expression almost as sour. Jongho was eyeing them warily, his eyes darting over to San and the Hufflepuffs. Yunho was a perfect image of innocence.

“I wasn’t there,” he had said when they had all met in the Great Hall, “I can’t be blamed for this.”

“Without you this wouldn’t have been possible,” Mingi had pointed out.

“Shut up, no one needs to know that.”

Seonghwa stalked over to the Hufflepuff table, followed by Wooyoung. Yeosang and Jongho stayed back at the Ravenclaw table, although they were watching the inevitable clash with rapt interest.

“Oh, here he comes,” Hongjoong quipped, still high on last night’s excitement and success. He arranged his robes, smiling arrogantly. He flicked a loose strand of red hair out of his face when Seonghwa stood right in front of him.

San noticed that Wooyoung was glaring at _him_. 

“Kim,” Seonghwa seethed with barely contained anger. “A word.”

Hongjoong let out a very fake, over the top giggle. He waggled his eyebrows at them before he exited the Great Hall with the Ravenclaw Prefect.

“Choi San,” Wooyoung said. Again it was only San’s name, but it felt like so much more. This time it almost sounded like a curse word. The Gryffindor shifted his glare towards Mingi. “Song Mingi.”

“That’s me.”

“There will be consequences for this.”

“Scary.”

“I doubt you can come up with something as genius,” San told him.

Wooyoung tipped his chin back, staring down at San. “We’ll see about that.”

“Wooyoung, I really like you, but can you _please_ leave. It’s ruining my appetite,” Han Jisung, a fourth year Hufflepuff said, his nose wrinkled.

The Gryffindor scoffed, turning around on his heels, walking away.

“Joong’s not back yet,” Yunho said worriedly.

“Should I check up on him?” San offered.

Yunho shook his head. “No, I think it’s good they work it out by themselves.”

“Knowing them, they’ll probably hex each other.”

Mingi grinned. “Prefects in detention. What a sight.”

“You’re supposed to be Hongjoong’s best friend, don’t throw him under the bus like that,” Yunho whined, clearly done with his Hufflepuff friends.

Mingi only gave a half hearted shrug in response.

Soon after that the Great Hall filled with food. Hongjoong came back some time in the middle of breakfast, fuming.

“I hate him,” he stated, stabbing his toast. “I hate him so much.”

“What did he do?” San wondered.

“I don’t want to talk about it.” The tips of Hongjoong’s ears turned red. “He’s… frustrating.”

“I bet he says the same about you,” Yunho said.

Before they knew it, breakfast came to an end and Yunho wandered off to his _Transfiguration_ class as the Hufflepuffs and Slytherins shared _History of Magic_. San would never understand what monster had put _History of Magic_ in his schedule so early in the morning. He liked Professor Yoo, but the class itself was tremendously boring. At least he had _Herbology_ afterwards, it was one of his favorite classes.

He dreaded _Defence Against the Dark Arts_ as he shared that class with the Gryffindors and ever since the beginning of their fifth year—ever since becoming part of Hongjoong’s group of friends—he couldn’t enjoy that class’s peace anymore. After his pranks on Wooyoung, he knew retaliation was only a matter of time. At least Yunho was in the class with him, it was a consolation.

The afternoon looked dreadful, thick thunderstorm clouds covered the sky. He was glad he didn’t have Quidditch practice that afternoon.

Professor Lee Dior walked into the classroom, her back straight and chin held high. She was the epitome of a Slytherin if San ever had seen one, hence why she was the house’s head. She silenced the chatter in the _Defence Against the Dark Arts_ classroom with one look, gaining all attention on her.

“This side,” Professor Lee said, pointing at the left, where San was standing, “will be the ones casting the protection spell that you’ll be learning today. It’s one simple word: _Reverbero_. It means to ‘cast back’. It protects you and simultaneously launches an attack back,” she explained. “You flick your wand upwards and then, very quickly, down, as you speak the spell.” She demonstrated it a few times. “Now to avoid the usual catastrophic duos, I will be pairing you up.” She began calling out names. “Mr Choi you will be paired with Mr Jeong.”

“Which one?” Yunho asked.

Professor Lee gave him a very tired look and pointed her long finger at Wooyoung.

San tensed, turning around to stare at Wooyoung, who was seated with fellow Gryffindor Yeo Hwanwoong. Wooyoung shot San a wicked grin. San knew that he wouldn’t walk out of this classroom unscathed, whether it was at hands of a prank or something else.

“Good luck, San,” Yunho muttered compassionately. He was paired up with Kang Mina, who was already waiting for him.

“I’ll need it.”

San walked to where Wooyoung was standing, by the far end of the classroom. Even at a distance the smell of dog food and other terrible scents clung to him. San wrinkled up his nose in disgust.

Wooyoung caught his expression and scowled. “I took three showers this morning,” he complained, “and I still smell like a garbage can.”

San cracked a smile at that, feeling proud their prank had worked so well.

“My condolences.”

Wooyoung rolled his eyes. “Go on then, Choi San.”

San positioned himself, his wand held high in front of himself.

Wooyoung flicked his own wand, mumbling some spell under his breath. San reacted quickly, moving his wand as Professor Lee had instructed.

“ _Reverbero_!” 

It worked. The Gryffindor’s spell didn’t affect San and he flew backwards, as if an invisible force had pushed him.

“Very good, Mr Choi!” Professor Lee said, delighted. Her pride towards one of her own house showed. “Five points to Slytherin!”

San smiled proudly at her. Wooyoung checked his elbows for any injuries, scowling again.

“You were just lucky,” he muttered under his breath.

“Sure.” San shrugged, rejoicing in the pink cheeks and the frustrated state of the Gryffindor.

“Let’s do it again. This time you won’t be as lucky!”

But much to Wooyoung’s disappointment and San’s satisfaction he perfectly cast the _Reverbero_ spell again and again, leaving the Gryffindor frazzled toward the end of the class. Without a word, Wooyoung stormed off once the class was over, cursing under his breath. With a little bit of guilt in his heart, San watched him go. Hongjoong would tell him not to feel guilty, but San couldn’t help himself.

It was true he had never really paid much attention to Jeong Wooyoung in the past five years with the exception of their Sorting Ceremony and the those times they had done an assignment together in class: there had been that time they had been paired together in _Transfiguration_ in their first year and San’s cat had jumped onto Wooyoung’s lap, digging her claws in his legs as San had tried to pry her off; or that time during their second year in which they had been paired up together a few times in _Potions_ class because Professor Shin Wonhee had insisted they made a good team (San hadn’t thought much about it at the time, working quietly with Wooyoung); or all those times in their third and fourth year that Wooyoung and San, together with a bunch of other students, had been sent out to feed the thestrals with Professor Kim Namjoon as they both had witnessed death… 

They weren’t strangers, and San wasn’t a stranger to Wooyoung’s past, just as the Gryffindor wasn’t a stranger to San’s past. Their parents had been Slytherins aiding the Dark Lord, dead now or rotting in Azkaban, their children abandoned until kind family members had taken them in and raised them as their own. And with their tumultuous start at Hogwarts, their lives were similar in many ways.

San realized then he felt pity for Wooyoung, and he decided that this explained the way his heart skipped a beat too. He just felt bad for the Gryffindor.

**~*~**

Ravenclaw’s retaliation prank came some time in mid October, when the weather had become colder and strong gusts of wind splattered the large windows of the castle, nearly drowning out the chatter of the students and the voice of the professor.

San was glad he had been spared because Hongjoong was stuck with an incredibly bright yellow as a hair color while Mingi’s hair was a dark blue. This prompted many students to call the Hufflepuff Prefect a ‘baby chick’, much to Hongjoong’s dismay and, secretly, to Yunho’s amusement. 

“It’s not that bad,” San tried to calm Hongjoong down. It was the third day since the prank and every time Hongjoong tried to change it it only became brighter. 

“Not that bad? Have you seen me?” he bemoaned. “What if I’m stuck like this for the rest of my life?”

“Don’t be dramatic,” Mingi said. “I’m sure the effect will fade after a few days. If not, just ask Park.”

Hongjoong seethed. “ _No_.”

Mingi looked at San tiredly, as if to say ‘well, I tried’. The last full moon had only been a few days ago, he often felt very tired afterwards for a few days.

San patted Hongjoong’s shoulder comfortingly. 

They were in the middle of _Frog Choir_. San had joined the club in his second year to accompany Jongho. He had auditioned as the pianist and three years later he still enjoyed it just as much. That year it was so much more enjoyable to him as it meant some extra time for him to hang out with Hongjoong and Mingi. Jongho stood a few spots over with Yeosang by his side.

Despite the success of their prank, Yeosang didn’t look as smug as Seonghwa and Wooyoung had. In fact, he looked incredibly unbothered, as if he didn’t really care. San wondered often if Yeosang was only in it because his friends were, like Jongho.

The Ravenclaw and Slytherin had their heads bent together, whispering to each other.

“Do you think they’re planning something else?” Mingi questioned, nodding his head in their direction. 

“Probably,” Hongjoong agreed. “You should go over and see if you can discover something.”

Mingi looked at his friend, his eyes squinted as he contemplated the request. They were doing singular auditions so that Professor Chae Dodo could organize the lineup for the upcoming concert at Halloween. 

“Alright.” 

The tall Hufflepuff made his way over to the two boys, at first creepily towering over them until finally Yeosang took notice of him. The Ravenclaw scrunched up his nose, which was a cute gesture if not for the annoyance in his eyes.

It was hard to tell how the conversation was going from afar. Both boys practiced the carefulness of their emotions while Jongho glanced between them with wide eyes. At some point Yeosang rolled his eyes, scoffing. He said something that made Mingi tilt his head in confusion, his body freezing.

“I don’t think he’s getting anything,” Hongjoong mourned. 

San kept staring at the tall Hufflepuff. “Have you ever thought that—” he began but stopped himself. Hongjoong gave him a questioning look. “Have you ever thought that maybe Mingi likes him?”

Hongjoong parted his lips. “Sometimes,” he admitted. “But it’s hard. Mingi has never shown interest in anyone, I don’t know what it would look like if he did. Besides, he teases him endlessly. I don’t think he does…”

“What about you?”

Hongjoong’s eyes grew large. He scoffed. “I don’t have feelings for Park.”

San almost laughed. “I meant if you have ever liked someone.”

“ _Oh_.” Hongjoong’s face became red as the Gryffindor robes. “I once thought I liked Yunho, but we’re far better off as friends,” he explained. “You?”

San shook his head. “No. Never.”

He startled when a particular Gryffindor popped into his mind with his eyes crinkled in glee and his nose scrunched up as his lips stretched out into a mischievous grin. Again, his heart skipped a beat, this time dropping low and swooshing high up into the sky. He could feel it within every inch of his body, his chest aching for something that he couldn’t name. This yearning made the hairs on his arms and neck stand up, and caused a burning sensation in his abdomen. 

For a short moment San felt a little breathless.

He thought back to that moment before the summer, when Wooyoung had bumped into him and made the ink explode in his face, drenching him. The melodic sound of his voice and his stupid grin; the way in which he said San’s name. _Choi San_ , always sounding like so much more. Like there was an entire story that Wooyoung had made up whenever he used it, a story only he knew.

Then San thought back to the very first time he had ever really _spoken_ to Jeong Wooyoung. It had been during their first year. They had gotten into detention, San for disrupting _Transfiguration_ due to his incredibly evil cat, and Wooyoung for hexing a couple of students. San still didn’t know why Wooyoung had hexed them.

_Professor Kim Seokjin needed help cleaning up the telescopes up on the Astronomy Tower and the two boys were assigned the task together with a third year Ravenclaw and a second year Hufflepuff._

_San kept to himself, not wanting any attention drawn onto him. Quietly, under the stars, he took the telescope apart and cleaned its individual pieces, wondrous at the way it was constructed—how every screw had its place._

_He only began noticing that something was very wrong when the raised voices carried over to him. He turned around and saw the third year Ravenclaw tower over Wooyoung, pushing him against the railing that encircled the platform they were on. The Gryffindor looked defeated as well as angry, his jaw clenched as were his hands, and he tried not to burst into tears, talking back at the older student._

_The Hufflepuff was nowhere to be found; hopefully on their way to get Professor Seokjin, San thought._

_From across the platform, Wooyoung’s eyes found San’s. He wasn’t asking for help, that wasn’t it, but the defeat in them was so bright, as if he was asking San if it would ever stop._

_San’s feet moved before he even registered; they moved quickly until he was only at a short distance from the Gryffindor and Ravenclaw._

_His lips parted but no sound came out._

_Wooyoung kept staring at him, now more confused than before._

_The Ravenclaw turned around, his forehead wrinkling in confusion._

_“What do you want?” he barked. “This is none of your business, snake.”_

_The nickname made his skin prickle uncomfortably._

_“Let him go,” San spoke, too softly and too quietly._

_The Ravenclaw rolled his eyes. “Shouldn’t you dislike him just as much? A traitor to your own?” He tilted his head, taking in San. A spark of recognition passing through his eyes. He let go of Wooyoung to seize up the Slytherin. “You’re that Choi kid, aren’t you? Your parents received the Dementor’s Kiss last year.”_

_San stared at him impassively. He never had felt an attachment to his parents, for as long as he could remember he had lived with his cousin. The only thing he remembered of his parents was, a couple of days before getting arrested by the Ministry of Magic, when they had stopped by and had argued with Yeona, claiming they were there to pick up San. The_ Avada Kedavra _spell that should have hit Yeona, hit her boyfriend instead, his body collapsing within the blink of an one. One moment he had been a living thing, breathing and with blood flowing through his veins, dreams and plans mapped out in front of him; the next he had just been skin and bones on the ground._

_What San did next he did not regret, he swung back his clenched fist and punched the Ravenclaw student, square on his nose. San was only eleven, in no way strong, but he felt satisfied to see blood trickle down the older boy’s nose._

_“What the fuck—”_

_“What, in Merlin’s name,_ is going on here _?!” Professor Seokjin’s voice pierced through the tense night, bringing all three boys to startle and shrink._

_The Hufflepuff stood by the professor, looking slightly guilty, but San couldn’t blame them, they had done the right thing. He wasn’t sure how badly this would have escalated otherwise._

_The Ravenclaw pointed at San. “He_ punched _me!”_

_“I heard that you were bullying Mr Jeong.” Professor Seokjin glanced at Wooyoung. “Is that correct?”_

_Wooyoung, who had still been staring at San, blinked out of his shock. He stared up at the Ravenclaw, who had his hand in front of his nose, trails of blood flowing down his arm. The silence stretched out, but Wooyoung wasn’t saying anything._

_“He did—” San started._

_“We got into a misunderstanding,” Wooyoung cut him off._

_Professor Seokjin looked at the three of them, exasperated. “In that case the three of you will receive additional detention—_ separately _.” He glanced around the platform. “Just get out of my sight.”_

_Galvanized, the four Hogwarts students walked down the stairs of the Astronomy Tower, not speaking to each other. The Ravenclaw kept shooting them all dirty looks, while the Hufflepuff looked confused and a little bit worried._

_“Why did he lie?” they asked, but no one gave an answer._

_San, already resolved to walk to the Kitchens and get himself a warm cup of tea to calm himself down, was stopped by long, cold fingers wrapping around his wrist. He looked back, surprised to find it was Wooyoung._

_The Gryffindor’s expression was guarded. He dragged San with him towards an empty classroom._

_“Why did you do that?” he asked._

_“He was being mean,” San answered immediately._

_“I don’t need anyone to stand up for me, and I don’t need the professors to protect me. I can handle this on my own.” Wooyoung’s eyes were alight with a consuming fire. San felt chills run down his back, a little afraid of the boy standing in front of him. “I don’t need anyone’s pity or help,” he added decidedly. But San could see past that._

_He could see the shaken state the young Gryffindor was in, unshed tears swimming in his eyes—maybe they would never fall—and his shaking hands forcefully crossed in front of his chest to hide their tremble away. He could see the toll of loneliness in his face because San had it mirrored on his own._

_Even so, Wooyoung stood there with his chin held high._

_“Maybe I punched him for my own satisfaction,” San said._

_The Gryffindor’s gaze wavered. “I don’t believe you.”_

_He didn’t give San a chance to answer, turning around on his heels to leave the classroom and leaving the Slytherin to stand alone in an utmost state of confusion._

A week later Jeong Wooyoung had walked with Park Seonghwa and Kang Yeosang, and San wondered for the first time what had made them so different from him; why had Wooyoung accepted their help and not his?

He wondered too if Wooyoung remembered that night up on the Astronomy Tower, and if their relationship could have been different if Wooyoung had allowed San’s help and comfort.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> my twitter: @hhhjoong
> 
> \- jack💛


	3. The Hufflepuff's Downfall

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this one was a lot of fun to write hope you enjoy it!!

On Halloween the castle was decorated with pumpkins and walking skeletons and magical bats flying around the ceiling that disappeared into a cloud of smoke. Hogwarts’s ghosts took this as a chance to spook the students by appearing behind them or walking through walls. Lunch came with specially decorated desserts; and even some of the professors walked around dressed for the occasion.

The day passed by in a blur and before San knew it the sky outside was dark and dinner was imminent. The past four Halloweens San had never done anything special. It was a tradition in the Slytherin Common Room to watch horror movies on a big projector that some Muggles had brought years ago. San never really had been a fan of that. This year he had gotten invited by his new friends to the Hufflepuff party—Hufflepuff and Gryffindor were known for their annual Halloween bashes, at midnight all the younger students were sent to bed while the fifth, sixth, and seven years stayed up to play drinking games and dance around like there was no tomorrow. Ravenclaw, on the other hand, was known to throw calmer parties in which the students played board games. 

San was looking forward to the bash, any time he remembered it his hands began to tremble and a giddy smile took over his face.

For the past years, the only thing he had had to look forward to on Halloween were the absurd amount of candies and the performance of the _Frog Choir_ before dinner. That last aspect was no different that year as all the participants of the choir were aligning in front of the professor and staff table in the Great Hall. 

“Without further ado, please welcome the _Frog Choir_!” Professor Chae exclaimed, the Great Hall erupted into cheers followed by a round of applause.

San sat behind the large wing, his fingers familiar with the black and white keys. Immersed in the music and his companions singing, San let his gaze flicker towards the many students watching them perform. He noticed Wooyoung’s red and gold standing out starkly in the sea of silver and blue. The Gryffindor was looking directly at him. San quickly looked away, concentrating on the piano in front of him as he feared he would mess up his performance if he let his gaze linger for too long on Wooyoung.

He kept the rhythm of the song, but his heartbeat, unrhythmically, skipped a few beats.

Even as he finished the song without any slip ups, he still could feel the Gryffindor’s gaze on him, making his skin prickle and his face turn hot. As the _Frog Choir_ bowed, San looked at Wooyoung again, who wasn’t looking at him anymore and instead had his head bent towards Seonghwa and Yeosang as they quietly spoke. He hated the flicker of jealousy flare up in him that begged Wooyoung to look at him again.

Terrified of what this meant, San looked away from the Gryffindor.

It couldn’t be. He refused to acknowledge that possibility as a truth; why on earth would he even like him? They had barely talked throughout the years and their most recent encounters had been anything but friendly, _they were rivals._ There shouldn’t be a place for San’s fluttering heartbeat.

“Are you okay?” Hongjoong asked him as they walked to the Hufflepuff table. “You look a little pale.”

“I’m fine,” San promised. “I’m going to sit at the Slytherin table, but I’ll uh, see you tonight.”

Hongjoong gave San’s shoulder a pat, shooting him an encouraging smile. “At midnight, remember.”

San nodded before he wandered off to the Slytherin table, where Jongho was being praised for his singing by their housemates.

When midnight was only a few minutes away, San left the Slytherin Common Room, a bag of cupcakes in one hand and his wand in the other, the _Lumos_ spell illuminating the corridors, large shadows growing in front of him. Sometimes it looked as if someone was standing in the darkness, making him look, blink, look harder, until he realized it was just a play of his mind.

Until it wasn’t anymore.

Three shadows hid near the Hufflepuff Common Room. San stopped a few feet from them, lowering his wand as they hadn’t noticed him yet. At first he believed they were students attending the party, but then he heard their hushed voices.

“I promise you this is an invisibility spell,” Wooyoung was saying. “I tried it out on myself.”

“The last time you said that, Seonghwa ended up with a broken arm,” Yeosang complained.

“That was an accident. I mixed up the spells.”

“Guys, shut up. Someone will hear us,” Seonghwa hissed. “We need to do this quickly, no more bickering.”

“Sorry,” they both apologized at the same time.

San stepped forward, startling the three boys.

“I don’t recall you being invited,” he said, raising his eyebrows.

“Technically you don’t need an invitation to attend,” pointed out Yeosang.

“We were uh, going to the Kitchens,” Seonghwa lied badly.

“Choi San,” said Wooyoung; this time San’s name sounded exasperated and like something annoying.

“I suggest you leave before Hongjoong finds out you’re trying something funny.”

Seonghwa pressed his lips together, clearly annoyed, but he didn’t try to argue with San. He shot his friends a meaningful look that San wasn’t able to untangle, then the three boys left without another word.

San waited until they were gone before he finally entered the Hufflepuff Common Room. Madness greeted him inside: Hongjoong was losing to a pair of sixth years at a game of rock-paper-scissors, the price was, of course, a huge bag of candies from _Honeydukes_ ; Mingi and Yunho had busted out some booze and were taking turns; Lee Keonhee, Yeo Hwanwoong, Kim Gunhak, and many others San didn’t know were involved in a game of spin the bottle; and lastly some students were dancing stupidly to music.

San made his way over to the two tall students, immediately pulled into a tight hug.

“San!” Yunho screamed over the music, happy and slightly drunk.

“You’re late,” Mingi pointed out, but there was no ill intent.

“I bumped into the Ravenclaws lingering around. Caught them right in the act!”

“Nice!” Mingi high fived him. “Did you hex them?”

“Tried to, but one against three is an unfair match. They did leave though.”

Mingi handed him the bottle he was holding. “Here!” he slurred. San remembered Hongjoong saying that Mingi was a lightweight. “For scaring them off!”

San laughed, and accepted the bottle. He took two tentative sips, not wanting to go overboard.

As time passed, all of them tipsier, they found themselves scattered over a bunch of couches, complaining that they were hungry. The Common Room had thinned out considerably, many of the students had gone to sleep.

“Let’s vote again,” Yunho said. “And _this time_ we don’t get distracted by nonsense,” he added, glaring at Mingi and San.

“I’m in favor of food,” Mingi said.

San immediately raised his hand. “Me too.” 

Yunho looked at Hongjoong. “Joong?”

“I’m in favor of sleeping, but I wouldn’t complain if we get something from the Kitchens first.”

“Kitchens it is,” Yunho concluded, jumping out of the seat. His friends were less quick, groaning and whining as they stood up.

“Can’t I just _Accio_ food,” Mingi bemoaned.

San patted his shoulder in sympathy. 

It was just their luck that the Kitchens were already occupied by a familiar group of people. 

“Shh, shh,” Wooyoung was shushing—or more accurately, _trying to shush_ —Seonghwa, pressing his fingers on his lips. “I heard something.”

“Yeah, me talking, that’s what you heard,” Seonghwa shot back, swatting Wooyoung’s fingers away. “Do you think in other universes—Wait, do they even exist? Other universes?” A short silence. “Whoah.”

“Seonghwa…” Jongho rubbed his forehead, shaking his head. 

Yeosang giggled.

“Do you think your relationships with people can be different?” Seonghwa finally asked his question.

Wooyoung shrugged. 

“I just… I wonder if—” Seonghwa tried to say, struggling to find his words.

The Kitchens’s door fell shut behind Mingi, who let out a quiet, “ _Oops_.”

“I definitely heard something now.”

Hongjoong, who had stopped dead in his tracks the moment they had entered the Kitchens, flinched when Seonghwa turned around to look at the door.

The Kitchens were big, but with eight students filling it up, the place became crowded very quickly. Especially with the tensions between these two groups, it was nearly unbearable.

“No!” Seonghwa cried, pointing his index finger at Hongjoong accusatorily. “Get out! This is our spot!”

“It’s not,” Hongjoong argued.

“Well, isn’t this just peachy,” Wooyoung huffed.

“I’m resigning for tonight,” mumbled Yunho. “I won’t do _any_ damage control; this is all on you.”

“You just doomed them, you know that, right?” Jongho said, addressing Yunho, but he did smile. 

Yunho shrugged.

“For once I won’t make it my problem.”

Yeosang just groaned, leaning against the table. He let out a very quiet and heartfelt, “ _Ugh_.”

“I’m hungry,” Mingi complained.

San ignored the bickering between the other two Prefects and walked over to the large counter, preparing the water cooker. In his tipsy state he didn’t trust himself with a heating spell. He prepared himself a mug of tea.

“I really question why they didn’t make you a Prefect,” Jongho was saying.

“I would have been too powerful,” Yunho responded.

San felt him before he saw him as a sudden warmth graced his back; a quiet, nervous breath sucked in before he spoke.

“Choi San,” Wooyoung said, this time a bit slurred and it sounded like—

San wasn’t entirely sure. Of all the times Wooyoung had said his name, this one was the hardest for him to understand. If San didn’t know better, this one almost made it sound as if Wooyoung wanted something from him.

“Jeong Wooyoung,” San decided to say in return, equally as slurred, equally as confused about the statement behind the name.

For once Wooyoung seemed speechless, caught off guard, staring at San with rosy cheeks and parted lips, as if San was the answer to a question San didn’t know. 

Behind them the Prefects were entangled in a very heated argument as Yunho and Jongho were watching and exchanging a pleasant conversation. Mingi was eating candy that Yeosang had lying on the table, the Ravenclaw was watching him with a grossed out and simultaneously amazed expression.

“What um, what are you making?” Wooyoung asked then, his gaze averted as if he was suddenly too shy to look directly at San.

“Tea.” 

Wooyoung hummed, still not meeting his eyes and instead playing with his glasses, readjusting them over and over again.

“Are you okay?” San asked him against his better judgement.

Wooyoung’s gaze snapped up, his eyes wide. Impossibly, his cheeks turned even pinker. “Yes!” he said quickly, nearly stumbling over that one syllable word. “I’m fine. Just wondering about some stuff.”

San leaned back against the counter, his finished tea mug in his hand, and tilted his head. “What stuff?”

Wooyoung let out a strangled, hysterical laugh. “Oh, I don’t think you want to know.”

“Were you thinking about hexing me?”

The Gryffindor shifted his weight, again not meeting San’s eyes. “No. In all honesty I wasn’t,” he replied. Then he mumbled something under his breath.

“What was that?”

“Nothing.”

“Wooyoung.”

The Gryffindor quietly swore. He looked at San with a concentrated look on his face and reached out his hand, hesitantly, only millimeters from San’s lips. Trembling, he brushed his thumb against San’s lips, surprising him.

San shivered.

This time his heart didn’t skip one or two beats, it went flying, and his next breath came out hitched. Wooyoung, very quickly, retrieved his hand, breathing funny too.

“You had chocolate on your um, lips,” he explained, taking a step back.

Embarrassment consumed San as he realized two things: one was the fact—the one he had tried so desperately to ignore and twist—that he liked this Gryffindor; the second was that he really wanted to kiss him. 

The second realization hit him like a train, his lips still tingling. 

“Thanks,” he muttered.

Wooyoung’s eyes were locked with his, searching and digging.

A loud crash startled them out of their staring contest.

Hongjoong and Seonghwa were sprawled on the Kitchens’s floor, the latter was fisting Hongjoong’s sweater, impossibly close to the Hufflepuff’s face, his eyes intense and fuming. The two Prefects separated, coughing awkwardly as suddenly everyone was looking at them.

“It’s not—” Hongjoong started to defend himself, his face a bright red.

Seonghwa stood up, brushing invisible dust from his clothes.

“I think we should leave,” he said, looking first at Wooyoung and then at Yeosang; lastly at Jongho, but the youngest was still immersed in a conversation with Yunho.

“I fully agree,” Wooyoung said, it sounded like a squeak. He stepped away from San as if San was about to hex him.

Hongjoong was still on the floor, now sitting up, and stared with a perplexed and haunted expression at the Ravenclaw Prefect.

The strange tension in the Hogwarts Kitchens was interrupted by a loud burp. Seonghwa wrinkled his nose, turning towards the source of the sound.

“I—I don’t feel so good,” said Mingi, blanching.

“ _Yeosang_!” Jongho cried. “You let him eat all of the chocolates?”

Yeosang shrugged. “I told him not to.”

Hongjoong stood up now, rushing over to Mingi, whose face was red, sweat rolling down his temples, and tears welling up in his eyes. 

“What did you do to him?!” he hissed, looking at Yeosang, then at Seonghwa.

“I think I’m going to throw up,” Mingi whispered, sniffling. 

Yunho rubbed his forehead, distressed.

“It was part of a prank we wanted to play on you,” Seonghwa started explaining. “We mixed chocolates with ghost pepper… We were going to sneak in later, once you were sleeping, and—”

“God damn it,” Hongjoong cursed, running a hand through his hair. “Let’s get you to the Prefects Bathroom.” He helped Mingi up, Yunho and San immediately rushing to their side.

“Yeosang, you should have stopped him,” Wooyoung said.

“This was _your_ idea,” Yeosang defended himself. “Besides, he wouldn’t stop calling me by that stupid nickname. This is on him.”

“Stop arguing,” Seonghwa silenced them.

“We should leave, Mr Byun will start making his rounds soon,” Jongho said, mouthing ‘sorry’ as he watched San, Yunho, and Hongjoong carry Mingi out of the Kitchens.

Once they were out of earshot, and had made sure that Hogwarts’s Caretaker, Byun Baekhyun, wasn’t near, Hongjoong started swearing.

“I’ll kill him.”

“You could always talk it out with him, come to a truce,” Yunho tried to calm his friend’s fury.

“Yunho, no offense, but this isn’t the time to find some middle ground.”

The tall Gryffindor let out a long sigh, not talking again until they reached the Prefects Bathroom, soothing Mingi, who was feeling worse by the minute. 

“If it gets really bad please tell us. I’ll get Madame Eunji,” Yunho told his friend.

“This is so humiliating,” Mingi groaned.

“They’ll get back what they deserve,” Hongjoong promised, his arms crossed in front of his chest. He seemed a lot sober than in the Kitchens, so much, in fact, that San wondered _how_ _drunk_ he really had been to begin with.

He thought of his own state of mind: the world was still fuzzy and his memories were hard to keep together, breaking at the seams. He questioned if everything that had happened that night was really the way he remembered or if some things had been a trick of his mind, his inebriated mind twisting the truth. What he knew with certainty was the new truth that had come with his earlier realization.

That he wanted to kiss Jeong Wooyoung. It was so, so troublesome.

Hongjoong joined San, both of them leaning their backs against the walls of the bathroom, as they waited for Mingi to get better. Yunho was sitting on a bench near the bathtub.

“What a turn of events,” Hongjoong mumbled in dismay. He cocked his head, eyeing San. “Please tell me you have a good idea for a prank.”

San shook his head.

“I might have one,” Yunho spoke up, surprising them. “Don’t give me those looks.”

“What made you change your mind?”

“Well… Mingi is miserable,” he said slowly. As if on queue, Mingi let out a wail of agony.

San couldn’t shake off the feeling that there was more to it, that Yunho was keeping information from them, but he chose not to question it.

“What have you come up with?” Hongjoong asked eagerly.

“I’ll tell you more tomorrow, once all of us are in a capable state of mind.”

It must have been around two in the morning when the boys separated. Hongjoong took a very defeated Mingi back to the Hufflepuff Common Room as San gratefully accepted Yunho’s invitation to sleep over, since the Gryffindor Tower was a lot closer than the Dungeons. All his mind and body needed and wanted was to collapse on a soft bed and sleep for a thousand years. It was a relief this Halloween had fallen on a Saturday, meaning they didn’t have classes the following morning. 

As they snuck into the Gryffindor Tower, they found Hwanwoong still awake, texting away on his phone. He shot them a half hearted wave before he returned to his device. Park Minhyuk was soundly asleep. The fourth bed was empty, badly made, and San could distinguish scattered clothes on it.

“You could sleep there,” Yunho whispered when he noticed San looking at it. “I don’t think Wooyoung will be back until tomorrow. Whatever suits you.” He shrugged, proceeding to undress so he could fall into his own bed. “You can grab some of my clothes to sleep in,” he added belatedly, as he was already snuggled under his covers.

San hesitated, looking at Wooyoung’s bed. It did sound inviting, instead of sharing a bed with Yunho, cramped into a small space, but it did feel too thrilling as well. Like the last piece of a string of inevitable events; was San ready to deal with the aftermaths of acknowledging his realizations?

By now, sleeping in Wooyoung’s bed just seemed like the most logical consequence of the night.

With a hitched breath he walked to the empty bed and delicately removed the clothes on top—a pair of washed jeans, a black hoodie, a few socks, and his Gryffindor sweater. It all smelled like him, of course it did, but it was so intense, making San’s head spin a little.

The Slytherin quickly changed into a pair of loose sweatpants and a t-shirt that was too big on him before he drew back the covers. His hands were trembling, his heart in his throat. 

On the night table by Wooyoung’s bed was a book, on it lay an empty glasses case, and a frame with a photograph of a young Wooyoung next to a woman that resembled him faintly—his aunt. San’s eyes caught on the book, papers sticking out of it.

He looked at the other boys in the Gryffindor dorm, Yunho was breathing in and out evenly, most likely already asleep, and Hwanwoong was too focused on his phone to pay attention to San, so with still trembling hands—guilt as well as nerves mingling in his mind—he took the papers out of the book.

They were ripped off pieces of parchment, Wooyoung’s messy handwriting on them. It was too dark to make out all of the words.

 _You made me hold my breath today_ , the first one read, it was smudged. The next one was longer, many words were crossed out, but San could make out the sentences, _too prideful to admit I needed someone_ ; and, _loneliness was all I knew and all I hated_. Further down it continued with, _and you appeared to me in dreams and visions. Even if I tried to change it, my heart still stopped that day when you_ , but the rest was crossed out too. 

San felt his heart grow heavy and quickly put the pieces back into the book, it was too much of an intrusion into the Gryffindor’s mind. It wasn’t fair.

He slipped under the covers, surrounded by Wooyoung’s scent, which he noted had become painfully familiar to him because he breathed it in in the same way he would breathe in the fresh morning air, or the scent of Yeona baking cookies during Christmas, or the distinguishable smell that clung to Hogwarts. 

It was pleasant, sweet and free and full of promises and excitement. San’s heart was hammering in his chest as he shut his eyes close tightly.

He dreamed of a day in his third year, he had forgotten about it, buried in the vast ocean of his memories at Hogwarts. The dream was twisted of course, everything in a strange haze and he _knew_ —he knew what he knew now, almost two years later—that he hadn’t known at the time.

_It was during_ Divination _class, up in that dusty tower with the drawn curtains that always made San feel like he was entering a dream. That month, Professor Kim Taehyung had taken a liking to pair them up, most likely because Headmistress Min had told him to mix the houses together and not allow the same groups as always._

_San didn’t really mind it, he was glad. It made it easier for him to find his seat, he didn’t have to feel like they judged him for sitting with them._

_“Both Mr Jeongs with Mr Choi,” Professor Taehyung announced, his index finger tapping his chin as he watched over the third years with a pensive look. “Mr Park with Mr Kim and… The other Mr Park. Yeah.” Hongjoong let out a string of curses that he badly concealed. “I heard that, Mr Kim. No complaining.”_

_“That can’t end well,” Yunho said with a pinched expression._

_“Don’t try anything funny, Yunho,” Wooyoung warned. “I have my eyes on you.” He glanced at San then, quietening down._

_San was used to the reaction, no one quite knew what to make of him. Not even his Slytherin housemates really knew him or hung out with him. But it was San’s third year, so he was used to it._

_Unfazed, he got out a notebook and a quill, positioning it on the table he shared with the two Gryffindors._

_“Have you two_ any _affinity for this subject?” Wooyoung asked, a little arrogantly._

 _Ever since the start of their third year, in which_ Divination _had become a selective class, Wooyoung had proven to be an excellent student. He seemed to have a natural talent to tune in with the—_ Beyond? _San wondered if it was the right word. Wooyoung was Professor Teahyung’s favorite, and liked to brag about his psychic abilities._

_San shrugged._

_Yunho moved his hand in the air in a vague gesture. “Sometimes.”_

_Wooyoung let out a long suffering sigh. “Great.” But his eyes fell on San, calculating and searching, and when he saw that San was looking back at him, he quickly glanced away._

_After Professor Taehyung paired them all up, he started explaining the content of the class. San tried to listen, but he couldn’t stop notice that Wooyoung kept shooting him looks and every time San returned them—questioning at first, then confused, and lastly annoyed—Wooyoung quickly looked away, pretending he hadn’t looked. San wondered if perhaps there was something on his face; he discreetly rubbed his cheeks, his forehead, his lips in the hopes whatever might have stuck to his skin was gone._

_They were given the task to analyze each other’s hands, see the meaning behind the delicate lines carved into their palms._

_Begrudgingly, Wooyoung took Yunho’s hand._

_After inspecting it for a while, he spoke, “Well, this one right here, is your love line, but not necessarily romantic love only, it can be platonic too. According to the notes, it means your life is rich in love.”_

_Yunho smiled kindly, as if he remembered something. “It is.”_

_San took notes for them, once Wooyoung was done with Yunho, he turned to San, suddenly hesitating as he reached out his hands to take San’s to study, as if he wasn’t sure whether San would allow it or not._

_“Um,” Wooyoung mumbled. “I need to—You have to give me your hands…”_

_“Yeah.” San stretched them out for the Gryffindor to take, not really bothered by this task. If anything he was annoyed by the fear Wooyoung exuded, as if San was dangerous. He pressed his lips together, patiently waiting._

_Wooyoung’s gaze flickered up, nervously, then he lowered it again and took hold of San’s right hand, so very delicately, shaking as if he was holding something very precious._

_Three things happened at once: the first were the tingles that ran up San’s spine, as if no one had ever touched him until then. The second thing that happened was an overwhelming pressure in his chest; it wasn’t as if he was touched starved but he had never realized_ how overwhelming _a single touch could be. The third thing that happened was Wooyoung going stiff, his eyes becoming white, and falling backwards. His glasses flew askew._

_“Wooyoung!” Yunho cried, startled. He let go of the notebook to check up on the other Gryffindor._

_San sat with wide eyes, still registering the sensations that had shaken him up—the soft touch, the tingles and goosebumps, the otherworldly feeling as if he had spent a lifetime… apart._

_Wooyoung was on the floor, completely still and mumbling nonsense under his breath. It was a terrifying sight, one that made San snap out of his trance. He crawled over to the Gryffindor, as Yunho called for Professor Taehyung urgently._

_San’s touch had caused this, maybe it could undo it._

_He reached out his hand, centimeters from Wooyoung’s own, but before he could touch him, Professor Taehyung had arrived._

_“What happened?”_

_“I—I don’t know,” San stuttered._

_Now a circled had formed around them. San could see Seonghwa and Yeosang giving him dark looks._

_“It was out of nowhere,” Yunho defended San._

_“He uh, sometimes gets those,” Seonghwa explained then. “These visions.”_

_Professor Taehyung raised his eyebrows in surprise and interest. He placed a soothing hand on Wooyoung’s forehead._

_“They usually don’t last long,” Seonghwa added._

_With the attention drawn away from him, San tried again, reaching out his index finger, it was shaking now, and let it softly touch the back of Wooyoung’s hand. He hadn’t thought it would work, but the Gryffindor tensed up, a violent shiver running through him._

_Then Wooyoung’s eyes snapped open and they immediately found San’s._

_They were as vast as the ocean._

_“Oh, he’s back!” Professor Taehyung exclaimed in delight. He moved on to calm down the other students. “Mr Park. Mr Kang. How about you bring him to the Hospital Wing; he’ll need some rest.”_

_“Yes, Professor.” Seonghwa didn’t need to be told twice._

_With the help of the Ravenclaws, Wooyoung stood up, his legs wobbly. He still was looking at San, as if he was a ghost, and San wanted to ask him what it was he had seen._

_Hours later, San walked into the Hospital Wing, Wooyoung’s glasses carefully wrapped inside a napkin he had stolen from dinner. The Gryffindor was peacefully asleep, he looked nothing like the prideful Gryffindor San had met in their first year or the mischievous boy he had grown into over the years._

**~*~**

The Sunday morning after Halloween, San was awoken by a soft gasp followed by a muttered curse word.

He blinked his eyes open, disoriented at first by the bright light and the warm colors surrounding him. Slowly he remembered the previous night: the Hufflepuff Halloween bash, the tense encounter in the Kitchens, Mingi’s suffering, and lastly falling asleep in Wooyoung’s bed.

 _Wooyoung_.

San sat up promptly, repeatedly blinking his eyes to adjust them, the figure standing by the Gryffindor’s bed was no one other than the Gryffindor himself. Wooyoung stood with confused eyes and lips parted in surprise.

“Um,” San began, his voice hoarse as his throat was dry. “Yunho said I could sleep here.”

Wooyoung kept staring at him, his gaze flickering about as if to make sure all his belongings were in place and nothing was missing.

“I didn’t touch anything!” San immediately said, then realized it was a lie as he remembered the pieces of parchment. He felt shame creep up the back of his neck. “I—I’m sorry, I’ll just leave,” he said as Wooyoung still didn’t move a muscle.

Stumbling over his feet as he stepped on the cuffs of the sweatpants—curse Yunho’s long legs—he grabbed his own clothes from last night and fled the Gryffindor boys dorm. 

“He lied, by the way,” San heard Hwanwoong say. “He looked at those papers.”

“He did _what_?!” Wooyoung wheezed; hasty clattering followed his words.

San was mortified. 

Not only had he realized he had a crush on Jeong Wooyoung, his rival by association, but he had slept in his bed like some creep, and _then_ had been busted for snooping around his personal belongings, again, like some creep.

The morning couldn’t become any worse, could it?

But he was greeted by yet another nightmare the moment he entered the Slytherin Common Room. People were arguing and complaining, abruptly stopping when San walked in.

Jung Jinsoul, the Quidditch Captain and Head Girl, pointed her finger at San.

“God damn it, Choi! If you weren’t such a good addition to our team I would expel you right now!” she cried, angered. 

San swallowed. “What… happened?”

“The stupid—” Jinsoul took in a deep breath.

“The Ravenclaws and that Gryffindor stole our Quidditch uniforms,” Eunbin explained.

“They wrote down that they hid it in the _Shrieking Shack_ and wished us,” Jinsoul looked at a piece of parchment Eunbin was holding, reading from it, “‘Happy scavenging!’ This needs to stop!” 

“At least they didn’t destroy them,” Jongho tried.

“It’s not about that. It’s about that stupid Ravenclaw-Hufflepuff rivalry expanding onto our house. I won’t stand for it!”

“I’m sorry,” San apologized even though it technically wasn’t his fault. “I’ll—I’ll talk to them.”

Jinsoul let out a long sigh, massaging her temples.

“And I’ll go to the _Shrieking Shack_ to get our uniforms back,” he added, hopeful.

“Fine. You’re forgiven.” Jinsoul stormed off, followed by her friends.

Eunbin gave San an apologetic smile. “She’s just… in a bad mood this morning.” She folded the parchment and handed it to San. “Here are the clues. Good luck.”

“You do know the rumors about the _Shrieking Shack_ , don’t you?” Park Chaewon asked, Slytherin’s Seeker.

“Yeah,” San breathed, a headache forming behind his eyelids.

The _Shrieking Shack_ was an old and abandoned building near Hogsmeade that was known for its chill inducing wails and terrible stories. Some said it was haunted by a bloodthirsty ghost, others said it was haunted by a ghost of a woman that had been murdered, others said it was the home of a werewolf. No one dared to spend a night there, its stories preceding it. Many students had tried to, as a dare, but none had lasted until dawn.

To San it was just a dusty, old house because he knew the truth behind the rumors.

Jongho looked at him with eyes as wide as saucers. “You’re going to the _Shrieking Shack_?”

“It seems so.”

“They stated you could bring someone, anyone you’d like,” Eunbin said encouragingly. 

“Anyone?” San echoed. 

“Anyone.”

About an hour later he walked into the Great Hall, his stomach grumbling in complaint as his head was still a little fuzzy. A good coffee and some waffles later he’d feel like a new person. He spotted Yunho and Hongjoong seated at the Hufflepuff table; Mingi was still indisposed. In fact, many older students were indisposed that morning, most likely hungover or too tired.

San plopped down, sighing as he poured himself a cup of steaming coffee, the intense scent already eased some of the pain behind his eyes. He pulled out the parchment piece Eunbin had handed him earlier and put it on the table.

“What’s this?” Hongjoong asked, his forehead wrinkled. He unwrapped the note, reading through it. “The _Shrieking Shack_?” Hongjoong repeated, eyebrows raised. “That should be easy.”

“Yeah.” San grabbed a couple of waffles, smearing them with blueberry jam and syrup. “I’ll go this evening.”

“You should take Park or maybe Jeong to the _Shrieking Shack_. Yunho and I could come in secret, turn into animals and spook them…” Hongjoong said with a grin.

San eagerly nodded his head. “That’s what I was thinking!”

“They just came in,” Yunho commented, nodding his head at the golden, blue triumvirate. Wooyoung looked better than he had that morning when he had walked into the Gryffindor dorm and had found a Slytherin asleep in his bed. Seonghwa looked a little tired around his eyes, his skin paler than usual, and a permanent frown edged into his forehead. Yeosang probably looked the worst out of the three, for once he wasn’t wearing a careful mask, he looked downright ready for murder.

“You should talk to them!” Hongjoong urged him excitedly. “After last night I really want to take action. Mingi is like… _dying_.”

Yunho grimaced while San exhaled shakily. He still could feel, in a distant corner of his mind, the feel of Wooyoung’s cool bed sheets against his skin, the scent of _him_ all around San, he could still recall his scribbled words… 

In a night, Jeong Wooyoung had become someone else in San’s mind. Suddenly he was thin black ink lines in a sketch, a flower that opened its petals to the first rays of sunshine. He had become a beautiful poem that San couldn’t get tired of; a thrill in his heart. Of course he was still all of the things San had known him for: a prideful Gryffindor, a prankster, loud and obnoxious and cocky. But he was—

That morning he was a soft giggle that carried over to San as he made his way from the Hufflepuff table to the Ravenclaw one; he was a wild night framing his face and stars dusting his eyes. 

San saw Wooyoung in an entirely new light.

“Choi,” Seonghwa acknowledged San the moment he stood by the Ravenclaw table.

Wooyoung dropped his fork, his shoulders tensing up.

San wished he could see his face.

“I’m here on behalf of the little prank you played on the Slytherin Quidditch Team,” San started, waving the piece of parchment in explanation. “It states right here that I can take one person on this scavenger hunt with me.” Seonghwa and Yeosang exchanged a wary look. Wooyoung finally turned around, staring up at San with consideration. 

“Okay? What brings you here then?” Yeosang wondered in a sharp tone; San supposed the hangover wasn’t treating him kindly.

“I am choosing one of you,” San revealed with a grin.

The Ravenclaws blanched, exchanging another look. Wooyoung’s eyes widened, probably already sensing what San’s plan was.

“Oh, no,” he mumbled.

San’s grin widened. He looked directly at the Gryffindor, ignoring the flutter in his heart when their eyes met. “That’s right. Wait for me at the Entrance Hall, five o’clock.”

“Choi San,” Wooyoung said, this time it sounded like a warning.

“It says right here it can be anyone, so I’m choosing you. Could it be you’re scared of the _Shrieking Shack_?”

Wooyoung flushed in embarrassment. “ _No_ ,” he said decidedly. “I’m not.” He crossed his arms in front of his chest in a very petulant way, his chin tipped up as if his cheeks weren’t still pink.

“See you at five then.” Without even deciding this gesture, San patted the Gryffindor’s head before he walked off, rejoicing slightly in the offended scoff.

It was strange because San still very much enjoyed the rush that came from embarrassing Wooyoung, pranking him back or, in this case, using his prank against him, but at the same time there was that desire to kiss him too.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> btw if you have any questions hmu on [curiouscat](https://curiouscat.qa/mist_)
> 
> my twitter: @hhhjoong
> 
> \- jack💛


	4. The Ravenclaw's Heart

Raindrops splattered the windows of the Great Hall, a wall of gray expanding far and wide. In the distance the Forbidden Forest was veiled by fog, giving it a mysterious aura. San had been in it many times with the protection of Professor Kim Namjoon to feed thestrals, but it still made his skin crawl. The secrets it hid were infinite, the secrets it would hide in the future… He was one of the few lucky ones that had learned one of its secrets: the werewolf that visited it every month with his friends.

San still hadn’t joined Mingi on a full moon night, mostly because he was too tired once the boys left the castle, and he wasn’t an Animagus like Yunho and Hongjoong. Walking through the Forbidden Forest in the dead of the night, even with his friends by his side, didn’t exactly sound like something he wanted to experience, especially now that winter had broken in.

Jeong Wooyoung stood by the Entrance Hall with a sour expression on his face, his arms crossed in front of his chest as he waited for the Slytherin. He was dressed in a long, padded coat, black jeans, and a beanie over his black hair. His thin framed glasses sat atop the bridge of his large nose, reflecting the warm light inside the castle. It was hard seeing his eyes, but San could make out those long eyelashes, like a bird’s feathers gracing his cheeks every time he blinked. 

San prepared his heart for the upcoming adventure. The clues given for the scavenger hunt weren’t that hard, and it wasn’t like he was actually scared of the _Shrieking Shack_ as Wooyoung probably had thought he was.

The Gryffindor’s expression changed from sour to haughty in the matter of seconds when the San made his presence known.

“Choi San,” Wooyoung said. It sounded a lot as if he was complaining about a very unavoidable event. Like someone would complain about the weather or a bad grade, or having dropped their ice cream on the ground without getting a single lick.

Swallowing the flutter in his abdomen, San grinned at the Gryffindor.

“Wooyoung; glad you could make it.”

“I didn’t have a choice, did I?” Wooyoung said through gritted teeth.

“Oh, you always have a choice. It just would have made you look like a coward,” San said, still grinning. He zipped up his jacket and made his way out of the castle, not waiting for the other boy.

“I’m _not_ a coward,” Wooyoung grumbled. “I’m a Gryffindor; we are brave.”

San shrugged. “You’re also hotheaded, loud, and obnoxious,” he listed, testing out Wooyoung’s reaction.

The Gryffindor shot him a nasty look, giving San a very rude gesture that many Muggles liked to use.

“Did you only ask me to come along so you could insult me?”

“Maybe.”

“Asshole.”

They made their way toward the Groundkeeper’s Hut, Professor Namjoon was tending to his vegetable garden while his husband was nursing a cup of tea. The Whomping Willow stood in the distance, its many, now bare, branches painted a sad picture. Abandoned, cold; a skeleton’s hand reaching out from the ground into the gray sky.

It was still raining, but not the downpour from that morning, the soil had turned to mud. It took the two boys a while to reach the Whomping Willow.

“What are we doing here?” Wooyoung asked, glancing around.

“This is the quickest way to get to the _Shrieking Shack_ unnoticed,” San explained to him. “You didn’t know that?”

Wooyoung shook his head. “Unlike you, I keep myself far away from the _Shrieking Shack_.”

San tilted his head, he laughed. “On a normal day I would too. We’re here _because_ of you.”

The Gryffindor gave him another foul look, pushing past him to the entrance of the tree. San held him back, his fingers around Wooyoung’s wrist.

The Gryffindor flinched, stumbling backwards, and fell into San’s chest, a soft gasp escaping him. He untangled himself quickly, putting distance between them. His cheeks were pink, but it could be due to the cold, San reasoned.

“What was that for?” Wooyoung hissed, crossing his arms in front of his chest.

“Not so fast, little Gryffindor,” San said. 

“Not you too.”

“What?” San asked as he drew out his wand.

“‘Little Gryffindor’,” he repeated with disdain. “If you’re going to give me a stupid nickname, make it original at least.”

San stared at him; he hadn’t even realized the nickname had slipped past his lips. He shrugged, pretending he was unbothered. 

“ _Immobulus_!” 

The Whomping Willow hadn’t been moving, but the spell made the tree seem stiller than before.

“ _Now_ we can enter the tunnel,” San said.

Wooyoung scoffed, rolling his eyes. He went first, crouching at the mouth of the secret passage to the _Shrieking Shack_. His small figure disappeared quickly; with a deep intake of breath, San followed him. He had never gone through it, he hadn’t really known about its existence until Hongjoong and Yunho had told him about it. They had warned him about how small it was, but it was very different being inside. It looked as though it could collapse any moment.

“I don’t like this,” came Wooyoung’s voice from ahead, his _Lumos_ spell making him only a silhouette. He sounded a little breathless. “This was a terrible idea.”

“This was _your_ idea,” San pointed out cheekily.

“It wasn’t! There are many ways to get to the _Shrieking Shack_. And I thought you would take one of your friends to help you, not me. I’m not going to help you with the clues, you know that, right?”

“Oh, I know. I thought this would be funnier than bringing along one of my friends.”

Again, Wooyoung scoffed. 

“I’m not scared,” the Gryffindor said; his voice was quieter, as if he was telling this himself and not San.

“It’s okay if you are. Isn’t the whole point of bravery overcoming your fears?”

Wooyoung stopped, turning around. San couldn’t see his face, it was too shadowed.

“Are you trying to… cheer me up?”

“No. I was just saying…”

With an impossibly soft voice, almost as if it was breaking, Wooyoung said, “Choi San, don’t say stuff like that.”

The Gryffindor kept crawling through the secret passage.

San frowned. “Why not?”

“ _Because_ ,” Wooyoung only said.

When they got to the _Shrieking Shack_ it looked as sad as San had imagined. He had never been personally, but heard enough descriptions from other students as well as from his friends. It was dark and dusty, wooden boards breaking off the windows, the floor filled with dubious stains. The sound of bird’s wings fluttering and critters squeaking filled the quiet air in the abandoned house.

It was eerie, San couldn’t deny that, but he knew the truth too. He pushed past that initial chill inducing feeling.

He unrolled the parchment, flicking off a mote of dust.

“Let’s get started,” he said, reading the instructions quietly. 

Wooyoung was still frozen by the mouth of the secret passage, his face pale.

“I don’t like this,” he mumbled.

“It’s not that bad,” San told him as he walked up the stairs, they complained under his weight. Wooyoung was quick to follow, nearly stumbling over his feet. Faintly, San thought, _cute_.

“Don’t leave me alone,” Wooyoung muttered under his breath, almost bumping into San as he climbed the stairs. “I don’t like this,” he repeated.

San turned his face around, grinning. “I got that much.”

“Don’t look so happy.”

San found the first Slytherin uniform hidden beneath the disgusting sheets of the bed. He wrinkled his nose and handed the uniform to Wooyoung. The Gryffindor complained with gritted teeth, but held onto the uniform anyway. 

For a while they worked in silence, San walked around the abandoned house, finding the missing Slytherin uniforms while Wooyoung gave unsolicited commentary (“Don’t touch that!” “I bet someone died here…” “What’s that smell?”). It was probably half an hour later, when heavy footsteps came from the ground floor, startling both boys. San calmed down quickly, knowing it was just Hongjoong and Yunho, but Wooyoung jumped and dropped the uniforms in favor of drawing out his wand.

“What was that?!” he whispered, his eyes wide. He stared at San, waiting for an explanation.

San shrugged. “Probably just the wind,” he said, but couldn’t help the smile blooming on his face when Wooyoung, with tense shoulders, looked around.

“That was _not_ the wind. How are you not scared?”

San rolled his eyes, far more fondly than he’d like. “Do you want me to go downstairs and check it out?”

Wooyoung didn’t reply, too proud to say ‘yes’. He bent down to pick up the Slytherin uniforms again. “No. If you’re not scared then I won’t be either,” he said petulantly. “Carry on.”

It lasted for about a minute before a low growl was heard, followed by a strange howl.

Wooyoung flinched, again dropping the uniforms. This time he clung to San, his arms around the Slytherin’s biceps. San bit his lower lip, to keep himself from grinning like a fool and simultaneously blush.

“You can’t say that was the wind,” Wooyoung hissed.

“I’ll go check it out,” San said, testing out the Gryffindor’s reaction.

Wooyoung’s grip on his biceps tightened. “No!”

He tilted his head, staring down at the Gryffindor. “Why not?”

Wooyoung didn’t answer, then he pushed San away. “Fine! Go check. If you die that’s on you.”

Another low growl came.

With nonchalance, San made his way down the stairs. He found a Labrador dog lying on the ground, a lynx sitting next to him. They looked at peace and San could detect amusement in their eyes; he was sure Yunho was smiling.

“It’s working,” San said in a whisper. “He’s scared shitless.”

Hongjoong yawned, letting out a high pitched howl.

“ _Choi_ _San_?!” Came Wooyoung’s voice from the first floor, terrified. This time San’s name sounded like a plea. 

“Everything is fine!” San called back. “There’s nothing here.”

“I don’t believe you.” Wooyoung’s footsteps could be heard, hurrying down the stairs.

Yunho and Hongjoong were quick to move, toward the secret passage, disappearing before Wooyoung was down.

The Gryffindor looked around with a scrutinizing gaze, distrustful. “There’s really nothing here?”

San shook his head, biting his lips to keep himself from laughing. Wooyoung looked scared and confused, his cheeks still pink. 

He avoided San’s eyes when he said, “Well, I don’t like this place. Let’s make a deal: I tell you where the uniforms are so we can leave and you don’t tell anyone about this. I can’t have my reputation ruined.”

“What reputation?”

Wooyoung glared at him. “Are you in or not?”

San shrugged. It wasn’t as if he had plans on staying longer than needed. The _Shrieking Shack_ wasn’t terrifying to him, but it was dusty and gross. “I’m in.”

He took Wooyoung’s hand, shaking it. His hand was soft and cold, San held onto it for a second longer than necessary, but if Wooyoung noticed he didn’t say anything about it. 

About an hour later they reached the Whomping Willow again, crawling out of the exit. It was softly raining, thunder clouds expanding in the horizon, over the Great Lake, as the sky on the opposite end was tinged in dramatic colors of pink, orange, and yellow as the sun was setting.

San stopped for a moment, taking in the sight. “It’s beautiful,” he said without thinking.

“Um, sure,” Wooyoung agreed quietly. “San, can I ask you something?” 

San turned his head, surprised that Wooyoung wasn’t using his full name. 

He nodded.

“Hwanwoong said you read through my notes, the ones hidden in the book, is that true?” Wooyoung asked, his voice shaking a little bit. His eyes were wide but not with anger, instead he looked almost scared.

San looked away, at the sunset again, the colors were almost gone now. He swallowed, feeling guilty, and said, “Yes. I did.”

Wooyoung let out a shaky breath. 

And San, against his better judgement, took him in. Part of Wooyoung’s face was dark, the one facing the Forbidden Forest, where the night had already fallen, the other still lit up by the last rays of the sunset, slowly making his face look a dark blue rather than his usual tanned tone. A few strands of his black hair had escaped his beanie, curling by his cheeks. His dark eyes were set on San, staring back at him without words—neither of them knew what exactly was happening—and his long eyelashes brushed against his glasses as he blinked, a different look in his eyes now. The breath that escaped his parted lips was still shaky, a cloud forming every time he exhaled. San could almost feel it on his jaw with how close they were standing.

He wondered then, if this was one of those moments two people ended up kissing—if they were in love with each other.

“Choi San,” whispered Wooyoung; this time his name sounded broken and rough, like the first breath after a marathon.

“Yes?”

Wooyoung’s eyes flitted between San’s, searching and searching. When the Gryffindor blinked again, his eyes staying close for a split second longer than usual, he let out a trembling laugh, moving again, toward the castle.

“Don’t look through my stuff ever again.”

San shivered, snapping out of the weird trance. He watched Wooyoung’s back for a moment, disappearing into the night.

“I doubt I’ll ever be sleeping in your bed again, so no worries,” he said, quickly catching up with the Gryffindor.

“How much did you read?”

“Not much. I was really tired and kinda drunk. Enough to know it was very dramatic and personal.”

Wooyoung shoved him. “It’s _not_ dramatic!”

“‘You made me hold my breath today’,” he recited dramatically. 

Wooyoung flinched. “ _Don’t_ ,” he said. “I’ll kill you.”

San laughed and began running ahead, Hogwarts was at a close distance now.

“‘And you appeared to me in dreams and visions’,” he continued, his voice breathless and carrying through the wind toward a very flustered Gryffindor.

“Choi San!” Wooyoung yelled; it sounded very murderous this time. “I’ll hex you, you bastard!”

**~*~**

It was widely known that Jeong Wooyoung did not like thestrals, the proof dated back to the beginning of their second year, when it was their first time riding in the Hogwarts carriages. Admittedly, San had been caught off guard by the large horses carrying the carriages too: they had been skinless, with wide wings on their bodies, and sinister looking faces. 

He had had nightmares involving them for a few nights.

But whereas San had been good at concealing his true feelings toward these creatures, Wooyoung had let out a blood curdling scream, staggering back the moment he had spotted them. Professor Namjoon had immediately aided the young Gryffindor, trying to calm him down. Yeosang and Seonghwa had stood with horrified expressions, staring at their friend.

“What’s gotten him so scared?” had asked Hwanwoong, frowning.

“Probably the strange horses…” San had answered as no one did.

“What… horses?” Hwanwoong had given him a very freaked out look.

“Oh.”

San had learned that night that yet another thing separated him from his peers, not all of them as it turned out that Mingi, Wooyoung, and a few others could see these sinister horses. Thestrals were their names, Professor Namjoon claimed they weren’t as terrible as they looked.

During his third year, San was asked, among many others, to help their _Care of Magical Creatures_ professor with the feeding of the thestrals. Despite his initial fear and apprehension, San was now quite alright with visiting the clearing in the Forbidden Forest.

That day the group consisted of Kim Hongjoong, Song Mingi, Park Seonghwa, Jeong Wooyoung, Kim Jiwoo, Kang Mina, Jang Yeeun, and San himself. Quite a group that Professor Namjoon had gathered. 

A tense atmosphere reigned over the eight students as they walked the familiar path toward the clearing in the Forbidden Forest where the domesticated thestrals lived. They all carried buckets with fresh met.

“The babies have grown so much!” Professor Namjoon was saying, delighted. His eyes were twinkling. San never really understood his unconditional love for all the strange creatures.

“I’m sure they look adorable,” Mina said, exchanging an amused look with San.

“Yeah, _adorable_ ,” Hongjoong echoed with a pinched expression.

Seonghwa rolled his eyes. “Are you scared, Kim?”

“How am I supposed to be scared of something I can’t see?” 

Jiwoo wore a very annoyed look, massaging her temples.

“This is going to be a nightmare,” she muttered under her breath. 

“Yup,” Yeeun agreed, popping the ‘p’.

“They’re not _that_ bad,” San tried. He received three very nasty looks. “Okay, they are. I’ll try to contain Hongjoong.”

“Please, with Jeong around you’ve got a handful yourself,” said Mina.

“What is _that_ supposed to mean?” Wooyoung asked, speaking up for the first time.

“Oh, you know,” Mina smiled, gesturing vaguely, “you and San are like Hongjoong and Seonghwa.”

San parted his lips to protest, but he considered her words.

“I suppose you’re right.”

Wooyoung stared at him, eyebrows raised. 

“Alright,” Professor Namjoon interrupted them. “We’re here. Quieten down.”

There were ten thestrals in total, three babies. They weren’t as tiny as they had been during spring. Their wingspan was probably larger than Mingi by now. They were playing around, but became wary of the humans. The mothers stepped up front in a protective way. Professor Namjoon held up his hands, speaking quiet and soothing words to the creatures.

San already moved towards Hongjoong and Mingi, Mina joining them. The feeding groups usually consisted of four people, it was obligatory that each group had two people that could actually see the thestrals.

Professor Namjoon was shaking his head. “In the name of all of Hogwarts’s professors, we have an agreement that you learn to work together with people you have a… difficult relationship with,” he said. He looked guilty about it. “Mr Kim, Miss Jang, Mr Choi, and Mr Park, you’ll form one group. Everyone else makes up the second group.”

Yeeun groaned; Jiwoo shot her a sympathetic look. 

Hongjoong inhaled deeply, glowering at Seonghwa. The Ravenclaw Prefect shot him a nasty look back. San pressed his lips together, grimacing as he could feel the unavoidable fight. The tension was high when they walked over to the thestral family they were meant to feed. 

Mingi watched the leave with a sad little pout.

“We are all Prefects here,” Yeeun began, putting down her bucket. She glanced at the thestrals, the young ones, having caught on the scent of fresh meat, were approaching cautiously. “It can’t be that hard for you to behave.”

Seonghwa looked mildly guilty as he exchanged a glance with his fellow Ravenclaw Prefect. Yeeun raised her eyebrows.

“I promise we will behave,” he said with a clipped tone. “Isn’t that so, Kim?”

Hongjoong looked done, but he nodded his head. He mumbled, only for San to catch, “I’ll behave if you do.”

“Alright,” San said loudly so no one could question what Hongjoong had said. “We should get started before they trample us. You two should feed the older ones, the young ones can get a little excited…”

“Good point,” Yeeun agreed. She waved a piece of fresh meat for two younger thestrals to follow.

Hongjoong gave San a questioning look as he couldn’t see the thestrals. The Slytherin pointed in the general direction where the two mothers were, eyeing Yeeun with a calculated look. Seonghwa and Hongjoong each grabbed their bucket and made their way over to the mothers, cautiously getting the fresh meat out to place on the leaf covered ground.

San faced the adolescent thestral, a tall and energetic one. Playful as it did a few jumps before approaching San, understanding that the Slytherin was going to feed it.

“There you go, boy!” San threw a rather big chunk at the creature, which caught it mid air and tore it to pieces. It was gruesome and yet at the same time San had to admit there was something endearing about these large, winged horses. 

They looked scarier than they were; that was something he could relate to.

After feeding it the second chunk of meat, the thestral allowed San to pet its neck.

“Marvelous, Mr Choi!” Professor Namjoon exclaimed happily. “Ten points to Slytherin!”

San smiled.

He caught Wooyoung looking at him. The Gryffindor had put his bucket at a distance, holding out a big chunk for one of the other mothers to take out of his hand. He didn’t look comfortable or happy about the whole ordeal. It was hard to read the look he was throwing at San; maybe jealousy?

Before he could even decide it, San shot Wooyoung an encouraging grin. The Gryffindor frowned, turning away.

“Watch out!” Yeeun suddenly yelled.

A chilling cry pierced through the clearing in the Forbidden Forest followed by startled crows lifting from the higher branches of the trees around them. The thestrals drew back, the mothers immediately moving to protect their children.

San spun around, throwing the last chunk of meat towards the adolescent thestral. He found a very confused Seonghwa sitting on the ground, the bucket had spilled over and part of his clothes were covered in blood and meat. He was staring up at Hongjoong, who was holding his right arm with his left hand over his chest, bending forward as if he was in pain.

“What happened?!” Professor Namjoon asked, panicked. He rushed over to the Hufflepuff Prefect. Mingi was quick to join, throwing Seonghwa a very dirty look. Wooyoung, Mina, and Jiwoo joined them as well.

Yeeun looked at Hongjoong and Seonghwa, her face ghostly white. “They were bickering,” she started. Seonghwa shot her a betrayed look. “The thestral got agitated… I think she just wanted to get the food and leave, but Mr Kim misinterpreted the situation and thought she was going to attack Mr Park…”

Professor Namjoon approached Hongjoong slowly. “Did you get hurt?” he asked him, then he addressed the other students. “Please finish feeding them; I’ll take care of this situation. Mr Park, you’re staying here too.”

Seonghwa pressed his lip together firmly, a plea of help in his eyes as he gazed up at Wooyoung. ‘You got this’ the Gryffindor mouthed before returning to his task.

“Did Park do something to him?” Mingi asked in a whisper as he joined San. They were only pretending to feed the thestrals now, their ears sharpened into the conversation happening behind them.

“I don’t know. I wasn’t paying attention.”

“I’m not hurt,” Hongjoong mumbled. “At least not badly. She scratched my arm.”

“Madame Eunji will know what to do,” Professor Namjoon said, sounding relieved. “You’ll be fixed in no time!” There were some rustling noises coming. “Now, why don’t you tell me what happened?”

“It was exactly as Yeeun said,” Seonghwa admitted. “We uh, fought.”

“ _Boys_ …” Professor Namjoon exhaled tiredly. “There is nothing against some healthy rivalry between the houses to spark competition, but not when it gets you hurt. You’re both Prefects and quite frankly excellent students; I don’t understand this reckless behavior. I want to see you both after the thestral feeding in my cabin. We’ll talk about this.”

Matching dejected sighs came.

“Professor—” Seonghwa started complaining. 

“Can’t you just give us detention?” Hongjoong asked, hopeful.

Professor Namjoon chuckled. “That way you won’t ever learn.” He patted them both on their shoulders. “Mr Kim, take Mr Song and head to the Hospital Wing. Mr Park, are you okay enough to stay? Or do you need to see Madame Eunji too?”

“I can stay.”

“Mr Song!” Professor Namjoon called out, waving Mingi over.

“Guess I’ll see you at dinner,” Mingi said quietly.

Minutes later San stood alone in the clearing with Seonghwa. They didn’t talk, but it looked as though the Ravenclaw wanted to say something, his lips were parted and the look he was giving San was intense.

As nothing came, the Slytherin decided to finish the task. The atmosphere had become uncomfortable in the clearing. It was then that the Ravenclaw Prefect stepped forward, reaching out his hand to stop San.

“Is there a prank you’re playing?” he asked.

San tilted his head. There was, in fact, a prank they were preparing, but it was still in the early stages and it was Yunho’s prank, most of the planning was his, he hadn’t told them much, only promised that it would knock the Ravenclaw off his feet.

“What do you mean?” San decided to ask, crossing his arms in front of his chest.

Seonghwa’s gaze wavered. He looked back, where the leaves on the ground were disarrayed, the imprint of his body clear. “Is Kim planning something? Why did he—do that?”

San hesitated. He had no clue why Hongjoong had done that, he wasn’t even sure what exactly had gone down.

“I think he genuinely thought you were going to get hurt,” he replied slowly, gauging the Ravenclaw’s reaction.

Seonghwa’s eyes still looked intense, but they kept wavering too. Something troubling eating at him.

“Why would he do that?”

San shrugged.

Footsteps approached them, seconds later Wooyoung stood protectively by Seonghwa’s side. He raised his chin, staring at San with a hard gaze. After their trip to the _Shrieking Shack_ nothing much had changed between them, they were still rivals, but San couldn’t help that sometimes his eyes drifted over to Wooyoung as if he was a magnet. It didn’t help that he often got caught, the Gryffindor looking back at him with unreadable eyes.

“Choi,” Wooyoung said in greeting. Not his full name, not a statement. It upset San more than he would have thought. “Is he bothering you?”

“No. We were just clearing up some stuff. I’m good,” Seonghwa said.

“Calm down, little Gryffindor,” San said, purposefully using the nickname this time. 

Wooyoung frowned.

“Don’t call me that.”

A cold wind rustled up the thick canopies, it crept into San’s bones, setting off a headache behind his eyes. He wasn’t a big fan of windy weather, too sensitive toward it. In between the simmering pain and the unexpected annoyance at Wooyoung not calling him by his full name, San did something regretful.

“Don’t call me that,” he mimicked the Gryffindor, making his voice a few octaves higher, and rolled his eyes.

The reaction he got was just as unexpected as his own annoyance; Wooyoung scoffed, stepping away from Seonghwa to stand right in front of San. They once had been the same height, years ago, but San was a lot taller now; still, Wooyoung didn’t come off as small. 

He narrowed his eyes and, without a warning, he shoved San, who staggered backwards and fell, his butt hitting the ground hard.

“Ow,” San hissed, “whatwas that for?” It came out harsher than intended, harsher than he had ever spoken to Wooyoung, but both boys had irritation in their tense shoulders and clenched jaws. 

San wasn’t sure what Wooyoung’s deal was; his usual playful way of handling San and the way he’d address him with his full name, it was replaced with a frighteningly angry aura.

“Because you’re an asshole!” Wooyoung cried, crossing his arms in front of his chest.

Seonghwa stood behind him just as perplexed at Wooyoung’s sudden outburst as San was.

“Woo—” the Ravenclaw started, approaching his friend, but the Gryffindor shrugged his hand away.

He bent down, grabbing a fistful of San’s clothes, bringing their noses together. He had his wand drawn out, pointing it at the Slytherin. San stopped himself from flinching at their proximity, but his eyes were frozen on Wooyoung’s dark ones—so much darker now as the sun was setting and without it the Forbidden Forest became a different world. A world full of shadows and secrets.

Ever since he first had realized his crush on this Gryffindor boy, San cursed it and wished it gone. His heart squeezed in his chest, a voice in the back of his mind muttered at him. In a different scenario this could lead to a kiss.

San could feel his cheeks heat up, a blush growing. He was scared that Wooyoung—or Seonghwa—would see it, so he gently pushed the Gryffindor away.

“Let go of me,” he mumbled.

Wooyoung’s eyebrows shot up, he sneered. “What? Scared you might lose?” 

His voice was sickly sweet and poisonous; it felt like a stab.

San’s eyes flickered away, not being able to endure any more of that anger Wooyoung was throwing at him. They were rivals, sure, as were Hongjoong and Seonghwa, or Yeosang and Mingi, but he couldn’t remember ever having done something so bad that Wooyoung would look at him like that.

His heart ached.

“I’ve already lost,” he whispered—more to himself than anyone else. When he lifted his eyes again it was to the canopies above him, the trees stood so closely together that they barely allowed any light penetrating the Forbidden Forest. 

San wished his heart was guarded just as well.

“Not you too,” Mina said with a pinched expression. Behind her stood Yeeun and Jiwoo, surprised looks on their faces as they watched the Slytherin and Gryffindor.

This seemed to draw Wooyoung out of his anger, he let go of San, letting him drop back onto the ground. He stepped back, giving San a very peculiar look, and finally stormed off with Seonghwa at his heels.

“Wooyoung; what the hell was that about?” the Ravenclaw Prefect hissed, his forehead wrinkled.

“ _Nothing_ ,” Wooyoung replied, his tone still poisonous.

“Woo.”

“I’ll tell you after dinner.”

Mina reached out her hand to help San up before Professor Namjoon could come and question why he was on the ground.

Yunho tilted his head when San entered the Great Hall alone. It was only a few minutes before dinner would be served. He took in San’s disarrayed and annoyed state.

“I take the thestral feeding didn’t really go well,” he said. “Where are Hongjoong and Mingi?”

“Hongjoong got himself hurt. Mingi took him to the Hospital Wing,” San explained, massaging his temples. The headache was still there. “Professor Namjoon asked Hongjoong and Seonghwa to come to his cabin before dinner to talk to them… They fought.”

Yunho had a displeased look upon his face. “That can’t be good. What about you? You don’t look too well either.”

“I got into a fight with Wooyoung,” he admitted quietly.

Yunho stared at him, surprised. Even if San had more or less integrated into Hongjoong’s crazy prank agenda, San had kept a moderately low profile, not like Mingi who was as unhinged as the Hufflepuff Prefect. San could see why Yunho would be so surprised by this, and it didn’t make him feel better. In fact, he felt worse now about his petty out-lash, but then again, Wooyoung’s reaction had been just as unwarranted and unexpected.

Maybe they both had been ticking time bombs and it had been an unavoidable outcome.

“You got into a fight with Wooyoung? _Why_?”

San pouted. Now that he wasn’t as high strung as he had been in the moment of the fight, he felt stupid for having lashed out. 

“I got annoyed, he got annoyed—Oh, hey, Mingi,” the tall Hufflepuff showed up, sitting by their table. He raised his eyebrows in greeting, gesturing at San to carry on. “Wooyoung shoved me, went all crazy on me, pointing his wand at me. I might have provoked him, but still…” He shrugged. “It was very intense. Thankfully Professor Namjoon didn’t catch us.”

“Lucky you,” Mingi commented. “Hongjoong was cursing and raising hell on his way to Professor Namjoon’s cabin.”

Yunho shook his head in disappointment. “Merlin…”

“It was only a matter of time before San and Jeong would get physical,” Mingi said.

“Ew, don’t say it like that,” Yunho shot back, wrinkling his nose.

San parted his lips, about to answer, but he spotted Jongho, wildly gesturing around, trying to get either San’s or Yunho’s attention. 

“Uh.”

“I’ll be right back,” Yunho excused himself.

Mingi raised his eyebrows. “You’re in cahoots with him now?”

Yunho rolled his eyes. “Don’t say it like that. I’m just helping him with something.”

Mingi scoffed. “I don’t believe that one bit.”

“Definitely weird,” San agreed. He looked at Mingi then, his rolled up sleeves gave way to an old scar he had running down his arm. “What took you so long to join us?”

Mingi froze, his eyes jumped to the Ravenclaw table for a moment before they met San’s. “I ran into Yeosang—The Little Ice King,” he stumbled over his words. 

San let his gaze travel to the Ravenclaw table, where he easily spotted Yeosang. For once he didn’t look as apathetic as always, he was listening to Wooyoung rant and rant with a far away expression. 

“Did you do something to him? He looks different.”

“What?! No!” Mingi answered way too quickly, flinching in the process and spilling his grape juice.

“Mingi…”

The tall Hufflepuff buried his face in his shoulder, mumbling something that naturally San didn’t get.

“What was that?”

“I said I almost kissed him,” Mingi confessed very quietly. “ _Don’t_ tell Yunho or Joong!” he added quickly.

“I… won’t,” San promised, surprised by the admission. He did catch a vibe earlier that year, but he hadn’t thought it was true. “How did that even happen?”

“He got all in my face, freaking out about Park. He was saying that Park has been distracted lately. I—My brain shut off and I leaned in…” he trailed off, choking in embarrassment. “I want to die.” He sighed dramatically.

“Did he notice—that you were going to kiss him?”

“I don’t know,” Mingi said. “When I realized what I was doing I sprinted out of there. I don’t think he caught on.”

San glanced at Yeosang again. “Are you sure?”

Mingi blanched. He looked at the Ravenclaw too. “Don’t say that. I’ll throw up.”

“Sorry…” San mumbled but he was already distracted, Wooyoung had lifted his gaze, meeting San’s across the Great Hall.

The anger from before was almost gone, he looked at San with contempt.

“Say, Mingi, you’re close to Hwanwoong, aren’t you?”

“Yeah; why?”

“Could you find something out for me?” San wondered, looking away from Wooyoung. Mingi tilted his head, listening. “I want to know why Wooyoung was angry at me.”

Mingi parted his lips. “Isn’t that obvious? You two play pranks on each other.”

“No.” San shook his head. “It was never like this. I don’t—I don’t like this,” he admitted.

Mingi stared at him calculating, then he shrugged. “Sure. I can ask Hwanwoong.”

“Thank you.”

**~*~**

Two days later, San was cornered by none other than Jeong Wooyoung himself.

“What do you want?” San asked, mildly concerned. 

The Gryffindor was dragging him into an empty classroom, much like he had four years ago after their shared detention. Except that this time around San knew Wooyoung, they weren’t nothing, and his pulse flew as Wooyoung had his gentle fingers firmly around San’s wrist.

“I should be the one asking,” Wooyoung said sharply. He shoved San into the classroom, closing the door behind himself. He glared at San. “I was trying to enjoy my lunch, but instead Hwanwoong was pestering me. He was asking why I was angry at _you_. I see no reason for him caring about that unless you asked him to do that.”

San groaned, feeling slightly embarrassed at being caught.

“I _did_ ask him to do that,” he admitted.

Wooyoung scoffed.

“I was confused,” he continued.

“About what?”

San held his breath. The confession was so easy to spill out, too easy. He swallowed down the nerves. “I was confused why you suddenly snapped at me,” he said softly. “I—I thought we were okay?”

“Okay?” Wooyoung echoed, laughing humorlessly. “We’re _enemies_ , Choi.” It stung just as much as it had two days ago, the way in which he only used his family now, not his full name. Not his full name sounding like so much more than just a name. “You went through my stuff!” Wooyoung added angrily.

San flinched. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know it upset you.”

“You didn’t know that—Of course it upset me! That’s invading my privacy!”

San crossed his arms in front of his chest, he frowned. “Well, you didn’t seem angry last week, after our trip to the _Shrieking Shack_!”

Wooyoung faltered, looking away from him. “Well, _I_ changed my mind. I _am_ angry at you.” He took in a deep breath, taking a step forward. He jabbed his index finger at San’s chest, accusingly. But more than anger, San could detect a hint of fear. “You went through my stuff,” he repeated, short of breath. “Why?”

 _Because I want to know_ ; that would have been an honest answer. _Because I want to know what you think_ ; that would have been another truth.

But San couldn’t get them past his lips, that would have been crazy, to admit something like that so boldly. But he couldn’t lie either.

“I wanted to know what you were hiding,” he settled for saying.

Wooyoung scoffed. “How entitled! You think you are so great? _Choi San_ ;” there it was, his _full_ name, but it just sounded like his name, “proud Slytherin, untouchable and unapproachable. You think you’re better than everyone else, don’t you?”

San leaned back, bumping against a drawer behind him filled with parchment, old books, and quills. 

He shook his head. “I _don’t_ ,” he said harshly. “I don’t think that. How could I think that when everyone dislikes me?”

San shivered when the words left his mouth. He never really had told anyone about it, not his cousin, not his new friends, not Jongho; but he knew it was the truth. 

Wooyoung cocked his head. “Dislike you?” he repeated flippantly. “Everyone’s scared of you and yet at the same time admires you.” He tipped his head back, squinting at San. He let out a hollow laugh. “Even I did; but now you’re with Kim and Song, and suddenly you—” He cut himself off, shaking his head.

“Suddenly I what?” San questioned.

But Wooyoung shook his head, letting that train of thoughts go. “Of all people, why them?” he asked instead.

San wasn’t entirely sure what had gotten into the Gryffindor; where these words were coming from.

“They were the first ones to befriend me; of course I’d stick around!”

Wooyoung stared at him. “That’s all?”

At a loss of words, all San said was, “I don’t understand you—at all.”

He noticed then that the Gryffindor was trembling, whether it was out of anger or something else, he wasn’t sure. Wooyoung’s gaze was so much more intense than before, the anger in his brown eyes a flame that pinned San down. He was almost too scared to talk again.

The Gryffindor’s eyes flitted between San’s, searching.

With a shaking breath he asked, “Do you hate me?” The question was so unwarranted, San’s entire body froze up and at the same time felt like water running down a creek. His heart jumped in his chest, his fingertips tingling. “Is that why you went through my stuff, to hold something against me?” Wooyoung continued.

“No,” San replied. It should have been an easy answer, but the moment it had left his lips, San knew he had given away a lot more.

An affirmation would have meant that all his interactions with the Gryffindor fitted into their relationship as rivals (or rivals by association), but his answer opened a door to so much more possibilities.

Wooyoung seemed to realize it as well, retrieving his accusing finger and taking a step back, into safety, but it was too late. An unnamable feeling had built up between the two boys, born out of their first interaction, and all those moments in between then and now, that had taken their lives right _there_. As if it had already been decided by fate or another higher power that they’d meet each other like this—hearts bared. San realized then that he never really had had a choice when it came to falling for Jeong Wooyoung. 

It had been woven into their souls like any other truth that had been woven into the universe.

“Then why—” Wooyoung’s words fell from his lips, his voice fading out.

But San couldn’t answer, his words stuck in his throat. Overwhelmed by his own feelings, by the fact that, if he wanted, Wooyoung could break his heart right at that moment. It was like an exposed nerve.

San swallowed, staring down at the Gryffindor.

“Why prank me if you don’t actually hate me?” he asked, his voice shaking now as much as his body. San still couldn’t answer, terrified of the truth. “Choi San,” Wooyoung whispered; his name sounded like a broken breath during a cold night. Loaded with more than what San knew. 

The Gryffindor kept searching him, and for the first time San wondered if he knew more than he showed. There was a peculiar look in his eyes. He took a step forward again, never breaking eye contact with San, and San knew that Wooyoung was going to kiss him right then.

He stepped back, scared of this. He didn’t know any of the thoughts roaming the Gryffindor’s mind, he didn’t want his heart to be taken advantage of—didn’t want his heart to be broken by Jeong Wooyoung.

He shook his head, holding up his hand. “No,” he whispered, his voice hoarse as if he hadn’t used it in years. 

Wooyoung froze, his face falling before it became an unreadable mask. He straightened up, taking a step back, then another. He didn’t leave yet. He stared at San as San was drowning.

“Why?” he questioned.

But San didn’t know what exactly he was asking; why wasn’t San kissing him? Why didn’t San hate him? Why had San gone through his stuff? Why wasn’t their rivalry like Hongjoong and Seonghwa’s? 

San shook his head, his heart in his throat and his breath heavy.

Wooyoung’s mask slipped enough for San to see a very vulnerable look on his face. For a moment San believed he understood the statements behind his name whenever Wooyoung spoke it, but it dissipated just as quickly.

The Gryffindor turned around swiftly and left the classroom.

San stood alone, the four walls shrinking in and the ceiling collapsing down on him. He wasn’t really certain what just had occurred, but he knew their relationship wouldn’t be the same after this.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i hope you're enjoying it so far!! 
> 
> twt: @hhhjoong
> 
> \- jack💛


	5. Hufflepuff vs Ravenclaw

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is another bumpy one LMAO lots happening and lots of development!!!

The first snow of their fifth year happened toward late November.

It was on a Monday, cutting the Slytherin practice short as the snowflakes were too thick and too abundant for the young students to keep playing, and in, Jung Jinsoul’s words, their Captain, “I can’t afford having a team that’s sick, so everyone, get inside, drink a cup of hot chocolate, and warm up in front of the fireplace.”

Some students complained, wanting to keep playing, but Jinsoul could be terrifying so they obeyed with ducked heads. San welcomed the break, he wasn’t a big fan of playing in harsh weather conditions, especially not if it was just practice and not an actual game.

He wandered inside the castle with his teammates, Chaewon and Jongho already convincing him to join them on a game of Wizarding Chess, when he was stopped by Hongjoong, Yunho, and Mingi, the three of them wearing thick coats and beanies, grinning widely.

“Snowball fight!” Hongjoong exclaimed giddily.

Jongho gave him a look, eyebrows raised.

“Count me in,” San said. He never had had a snowball fight, at least not one involving magic. “Just let me get my coat and gloves.”

Five minutes later they found themselves on the Hogwarts grounds, together with many other students. Some were having snowball fights of their own, others were making snow angels, and others building snowmen.

San was paired up with Mingi, the two boys hiding behind a group of trees.

“Alright, I know Joong. He’ll try to distract us by using Yunho’s charms,” Mingi explained, flicking his wand to create a dozen snowballs. “This time I won’t fall for it.”

San leaned to the side, supervising the grounds to see where the tall Gryffindor and Hufflepuff Prefect were hiding. He found them in the far distance, hiding behind a rock, Hongjoong’s stupid beanie peeking out.

“Found them,” he said, pointing his finger at them.

“Good.”

Mingi crouched, lifting the snowballs with a spell. He aimed them at the rock, commanding them to fly towards it with an easy spell. Seconds later a complaint came.

“Fucker!” Hongjoong cried. “We weren’t even ready!”

“That’s your fault!” Mingi yelled back in a singsong voice. He grinned at San.

San decided to copy Mingi’s move, using the same spell, but the moment he was ready to launch a rain of snowballs on their opponents, he slipped on the snow, aiming it in an entirely different direction. To his surprise someone did cry out in protest.

“What the—”

San peeked out behind the trees, his face blanching as he spotted Wooyoung, half his body covered in snow, Yeosang was helping him stay on his feet. Seonghwa shot San a very angry look.

“That was an accident,” San squeaked out.

This was mortifying.

After the intense conversation with Wooyoung the previous week, that had ended leaving them in a very strange place, they hadn’t really talked again. Like ghosts they passed each other in the corridors, and avoided one another in their shared classes. It wasn’t just them, Seonghwa and Hongjoong were off as well, when Professor Namjoon had asked them to his cabin after the thestral incident. Hongjoong hadn’t told them what had happened, but it was clear that the awkward tension was not just between San and Wooyoung.

Mingi stood behind San, his head tilted. He let out a quiet huff, almost like a laugh, then he lifted his wand and a snowball went flying, nearly hitting Yeosang.

“You—” the Ravenclaw yelped, shooting daggers at Mingi. He crouched, picking up snow and forming an almost perfectly round snowball. He threw it at them, it landed a few feet from them.

“You missed,” Mingi pointed out the very obvious.

“That’s it! You’re going down, Seonghwa!” Hongjoong yelled, dragging a very done looking Yunho with him toward where San and Mingi were hiding. “It’s now us against them,” he said once he reached them.

San kept himself from pointing out the fact that the Ravenclaw Prefect apparently now was Seonghwa and not just Park anymore. Yunho seemed to have noticed as well, his eyebrows raised.

“That’s unfair!” Seonghwa yelled back, but he was already casting a spell. “Four against three is hardly a fair match!”

“I resign!” Yunho said, raising his hands. Hongjoong and Mingi looked betrayed. “I just remembered there’s something I need to discuss with… someone, anyway.” He shuffled away carefully on the fresh snow, he looked a bit like a very tall penguin.

Just like that a very dirty game started, snowballs hailing down on both teams as they ran around, giggles and yells filling the evening. The sky was dark, thick clouds covering the stars and the full moon, and it wasn’t snowing as heavily anymore, just enough to create an enchanting atmosphere around them.

San was taking cover behind a little hill, the snow perfectly hiding his figure in the darkness. He could see Mingi in the distance, waving his arms at him and gesturing wildly at a very oblivious Seonghwa. From what San was understanding, Mingi was asking him to come around sneakily and together they’d obliterate the Ravenclaw Prefect in the name of friendship and to avenge Hongjoong. 

But San didn’t move, his muscles were frozen, not because of the cold, he was nicely wrapped up in his coat and thick jeans. Something kept him behind that hill, a voice in his mind that said if he moved he’d miss an opportunity. It was the same voice that sometimes told him, early in the morning, when he had classes outside, to put on warmer clothes, and San never regretted listening because the weather always took a turn, proving that voice was right.

Call it instinct, or someone watching out for him. San listened to it, he trusted it.

Timely, a figure stumbled out from behind the hill, crashing into San.

“Oof,” the person huffed.

“Oof is right,” San muttered, sitting upright in the snow and rubbing his elbow. He glanced at the figure, his heart jumped in his chest before he even made out Wooyoung’s features in the darkness. That familiar smell clinging to him had given him away, even with the snow and fresh air lingering on the Gryffindor, San still could make out his personal scent. Sweet and free, and achingly familiar now. The sweetness came from the pudding San had observed Wooyoung liked to eat, and whatever fruity shampoo he used; the freedom came from _Wooyoung_ , just that indescribable scent people had that couldn’t be put into words. And for some reason to San he associated it with freedom.

“Sorry,” Wooyoung said, his voice quiet and dull. He untangled himself from San, kneeling down at a safe distance. In the darkness it was hard to tell if he was looking at San or not. “That was an accident. I didn’t know you were hiding here.”

“It’s okay,” San told him.

An awkward silence settled over them, covering them like the snowflakes, melting on their warm clothes and the tips of their noses. Around them they could hear the battle cries of their friends mixed with occasional victorious and freeing laughter. Hongjoong and Seonghwa were especially loud and competitive, from the corner of his eyes San could see them, standing closely, each with a handful of snow, ready to attack.

“I think I’m going to—” San started, about to move out of his sitting position, but the next second he had an armful of Wooyoung and a face full of snow.

He sputtered.

Wooyoung’s delightful giggles sounded too close to his ears, his heart giving a dangerous response.

San moved his hand over his face and blinked his eyes open, he stared up at Wooyoung.

“Gotcha!” the Gryffindor cried in victory, he was still hovering over him. But just like the atmosphere in the classroom a week ago, it shifted all of a sudden. The awkwardness and playfulness vanished, and they were left with just them staring at each other.

San could see the white of Wooyoung’s eyes and his teeth peeking out from behind his parted lips, and he wished he could see the color of his cheeks; were they rosy?

Clouds of their breath appeared and disappeared in the small distance between them.

Short of breath, San didn’t move. Tingles washed over him as waves over the shore. This time he wasn’t so sure he would turn down Jeong Wooyoung’s kiss because he yearned for it.

The Gryffindor, propped over San’s body, didn’t move either, caught up staring down at the Slytherin with wide eyes, breathing in and out evenly. Even if he looked like a picture of calmness, San knew he _wasn’t_. If he was he would have moved away; he was just as entranced and paralyzed by this as was San.

“San, I—” Wooyoung started, his voice a bare whisper. It sent shivers up San’s spine. His voice sounded as broken as it had a week ago.

In the silence, there were so many words hiding.

 _What?_ San wanted to ask, but he couldn’t find his voice or the strength to give it life, so he stayed laying on the snow as his heartbeat set the pace for his future and his skin grew hot.

Wooyoung let out a choked breath, then he moved away. Half heartedly he lifted his hand, a perfectly round snowball resting in it, and pointed it at San.

“You lost,” he said, but even if he tried to sound unaffected and brave, there was a tremble.

“I suppose I did,” San said.

Wooyoung stood up, he looked in the distance and waved his hand. “Choi lost too!”

Seonghwa let out a _whoop_ ; when San sat up, leaning out from behind the hill, he saw a very angry Hongjoong sitting on the ground, covered in snow from head to toes. His face was too small to distinguish from the distance, but San thought he was looking at him, promised revenge written in his eyes.

For once San was _very_ on board. He could use the premise of a prank to get rid of his confusing feelings. What was he doing? What was Wooyoung doing? 

San stood up, brushing off snow from his legs, butt, and back. He shot Wooyoung a grimace, the awkward atmosphere was still lingering in the air but it wasn’t as bad as it had been minutes ago. With wide steps he stalked away to rescue his Hufflepuff friend from a very annoyingly triumphant Ravenclaw.

“I told you you’d go down,” San heard Seonghwa say when he was closer.

Hongjoong mimicked him, pulling a face.

Mingi seemed to be the only one unaffected by their rivals’s victory, an incredibly impassive expression on his face. He had snow clinging to his elbows and snowflakes up in his dark blue hair. His cheeks were pink, as were all of theirs, due to the cold.

“I’m starving,” Mingi said, jerking his chin at the castle. “And I’m tired,” he added the second statement meaningfully, looking first at Hongjoong and then at San.

The Hufflepuff Prefect glanced up at the where the full moon was hiding behind a thin wall of clouds, its light through the clouds an eerie looking halo. 

_Right_ , San thought; that night they still had an adventure to live out. It was his first time tagging along. He had decided he wanted to be part of the experience after all, Hongjoong had promised he would stay in his human form to accompany him through the night while Yunho and Mingi played ‘catch ball’—as Hongjoong had put it, much to his friends’s chagrin.

Nearly four hours later, San was sedated after a warm meal, a good shower, and a power nap. He felt giddy as he walked up from the Dungeons to the Entrance Hall. He was meant to meet his friends there, then they’d sneak out of the castle using one of the many secret passages that led out. There was one up on the third floor, the exit was between the Quidditch pitch and the Broom Shed, near the Great Lake. San had never heard of it, then again he never had had a necessity to exit Hogwarts in the middle of the night unseen. 

With a spring in his walk, he rushed up the last steps of the Dungeons, nearing the Kitchens. He spotted several figures camping by the painting behind which the entrance to the Kitchens lay. He stopped, muttering ‘ _Nox_ ’ under his breath, and waited out. He recognized their voices and rolled his eyes; was Hogwarts really so small to be bumping into the same people over and over again?

He waited for them to be gone before he moved again. He found Hongjoong standing alone in the Entrance Hall, enveloped in a thick coat, his Hufflepuff scarf around his neck, and a beanie covering his now gray hair.

“You’re late,” Hongjoong said, but it was more of an observation than scolding.

“There were minor complications, but we’re good now. Where are Mingi and Yunho?”

“They went ahead. We can’t have Mingi turning while in the secret tunnel, he wouldn’t have fit in there transformed,” Hongjoong explained, already making a move up the stairs. He gestured at San to follow him.

Quiet as ghosts they made their way through the empty castle, once in a while stopping as an actual ghost crossed their path or they thought they heard Mr Byun walking about, cursing under his breath. Even if they were being careful, San couldn’t shake off the feeling that they were being watched.

He shivered.

Hongjoong had been right: the tunnel _was_ narrow. Almost as bad as the one underneath the Whomping Willow, but thankfully not as dirty. They didn’t talk the whole way until they exited by some bushes.

The night was clear, no clouds dusting it, and the full moon smiled brightly down at them, making the snow twinkle, the stars its light had robbed from the sky had been brought down to the ground. 

By the edge of the Forbidden Forest two larger shadows were moving around playfully. San immediately recognized Mingi; the other belonged to Yunho. As Hongjoong and San approached, a dreadful feeling filled him. He couldn’t explain it, but the tips of his fingers tingled and the hairs in the back of his neck stood up.

“Yunho!” Hongjoong said with a breathless laugh as Yunho jumped, wagging his tail. Out of his pocket he drew a small ball, he threw it into the distance. “Go on, catch it.”

For a dog, Yunho’s judgmental look was powerful.

Mingi growled, but it was more in protest than anything else.

“What in Merlin’s name—” A surprised voice interrupted their gleeful night.

“What the fuck?!” A second voice followed, dry.

“No way!” A third one almost shrieked.

“Merlin, this is unexpected!” The last voice came because, of course, the four of them were there.

San’s dreadful feeling made sense now: they had been followed all the way to Mingi’s secret. The consequences of this would be catastrophic, that much was sure.

Hongjoong looked pale in the moonlight, his eyes wide in terror. Yunho didn’t move, sitting next to Hongjoong as he stared at the familiar boys. Mingi was edging toward the Forbidden Forest, hiding in the trees’s shadows.

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” the Hufflepuff Prefect drawled out. He glared at Seonghwa. “You _followed_ us?!”

Seonghwa still looked shocked, his eyes flitting between Mingi, Yunho, and Hongjoong. Jongho didn’t look as surprised and San wondered if he had been in cahoots with Yunho after all. Wooyoung and Yeosang, whose eyes had widened, looked a little less shocked but still very much surprised.

“This can’t be—” Yeosang muttered. “ _A_ _werewolf_?!”

Addressing Hongjoong, Seonghwa said carefully, “Well, you were sneaking around suspiciously. I wanted to see what you were up to. You can’t blame me for that. You would have done the same!”

That much was true, but Hongjoong was too terrified and startled to let reason speak.

In the short time that San had been hanging out with the Hufflepuffs and their Gryffindor, he had learned that they took Mingi’s secret very seriously, guarding it with their lives. They had promised they would never let anyone hurt Mingi or put him in danger.

They had failed their promise that night.

“This can’t be,” Hongjoong kept muttering, distressed. He took off his beanie in favor of running his hand through his hair, tugging at it. San placed a soothing hand on his to stop him from hurting himself.

With a hard look, San faced Seonghwa, “It doesn’t really matter who would have done in what circumstance; don’t tell _anyone_ about this.”

Seonghwa parted his lips, but before he could speak, Hongjoong said, “I’ll do anything, Park. _Anything_. Just don’t—Don’t expose Mingi’s secret. No one knows he was bitten that night, only his aunt and us. She did a very good job at covering it up,” he explained in a rant, his face twisted unpleasantly. “ _Please_ ,” he added quietly.

San saw a complicated look cross Seonghwa’s face. The Ravenclaw swallowed, glancing at his friends.

“I won’t.”

Hongjoong let out a sigh of relief.

“Whoah, dude!” Jongho suddenly exclaimed, covering his eyes.

They turned around to find Yunho naked, in his human form. He gave them an unimpressed look and jogged over to a nearby bush, he got a bag, drawing out clothes. After getting dressed he joined them.

“Sorry,” he apologized sheepishly. “So it’s a deal? You won’t speak of tonight’s event?”

“I promise,” Seonghwa said.

“I’ll need more than that,” Hongjoong spoke up. He looked less pale and scared than before.

“ _Joong_ ,” Yunho complained, he addressed the Ravenclaw Prefect again, “But I agree, we do need more than just that.”

“What do you suggest?” Wooyoung asked; he too had regained the color in his cheeks. “An Unbreakable Vow?”

“No, that’s too much—” Seonghwa was already complaining.

“Yes,” Hongjoong said.

“Are you _insane_?!” Seonghwa hissed, eyes wide. “Hongjoong, you can’t be seriously suggesting we make an Unbreakable Vow over this? I wouldn’t tell anyone about this. I know we’re rivals and all, but this is serious. _I realize that_. I don’t want any of you seriously harmed or expelled or—or put you in danger.” 

Hongjoong stared at him, perplexed.

“We’ll uh, come back to that later,” Yunho said slowly. He had a peculiar look on his face as he looked at the two Prefects. “How did you find out anyway?” he asked then, easily and quickly diverting the attention away from Seonghwa’s words.

Yeosang cleared his throat. “We saw Choi first as he left the Slytherin Common Room. We thought at first he was either going to the Kitchens or the Hufflepuff Common Room, but instead he kept walking. We assumed you were going to play a prank, but then…” he trailed off, waving his hand in the air as if to say ‘the rest is history’.

San avoided Hongjoong’s eyes, feeling guilty about not having been more careful.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered to his friend.

“It’s okay,” Hongjoong said, giving him a smile. “I don’t blame you.”

“I think we should leave,” Jongho said carefully. His words were meant for Wooyoung and Yeosang. “Seonghwa you should talk to Hongjoong.”

His words galvanized the older students. Seonghwa and Hongjoong agreed, for once, without putting up a fight. They walked off, in the direction of the Quidditch pitch. Yunho watched them for a moment, looking troubled.

“San, you can go too, if you want to. I’m going to keep Mingi company, you shouldn’t have to be alone out here,” the tall Gryffindor said after a long sigh.

San hummed in agreement, distracted. He didn’t think he would find sleep that night, too much had happened; too many loose ends. Jongho gently tugged at the sleeve of his coat to get him to move.

It was once they were in the middle of the secret passage back to the third floor that the silence was broken.

“How long have you known?” asked Jongho.

It took San a moment to realize it was him he was addressing.

“Since July,” he replied.

“Weren’t you scared?” Jongho continued.

“No; why should I? It’s just Mingi.”

Jongho let out a very thoughtful ‘hm’—it was incredible how much meaning he could put into a single sound.

“Has he ever hurt anyone?” Wooyoung asked then.

“No.” San stopped himself from revealing that Yunho had been secretly brewing _Wolfsbane_ potions for his friend. 

“Is that why he has that scar on his arm?” Yeosang wondered.

“He got it the night he was bitten, the night his parents died,” San revealed accidentally, the words spilling out before he could stop them. He didn’t know how much the Hogwarts students _knew_ about Mingi, San certainly hadn’t known much before befriending him.

“ _Oh_ ,” Yeosang breathed, it sounded choked.

“His parents…” Jongho started but couldn’t finish, the truth heavy and painful.

San swallowed, continuing before they could ask more about Mingi’s dark past, “Don’t tell _anyone_ about this. These kinds of secrets they’re not to be tossed around. I don’t think Hongjoong or Yunho would take kindly on you if you tell someone about this,” he said. “Neither would I,” he added decidedly. He was part of their group now, he was a protector of Mingi’s secret; he’d walk through hell for them.

“We won’t,” Jongho promised.

When they exited the secret passage, the corridor on the third floor was poorly illuminated, a ghost lingering in the distance, San took in the three boys. He tried to think of words he could use, to assure they wouldn’t tell Mingi’s secret, but somehow it felt like there was no need. That he could trust them.

He looked at Yeosang and Wooyoung. “This is where our ways part.”

“Don’t be so dramatic,” Yeosang scoffed. “We’ll see each other tomorrow at breakfast.”

San’s cheeks flared up in embarrassment. It was unusual for Yeosang to be so talkative. Wooyoung snorted. San’s cheeks turned even pinker.

After exchanging slightly awkward goodbyes, San and Jongho took the staircase leading down while Wooyoung and Yeosang took the one leading to the Ravenclaw Tower. 

“Good night, Choi San,” came Wooyoung’s voice at last; San’s name sounded like something curious, a brilliant and forgotten object one would find in the most unexpected place.

“Good night, Jeong Wooyoung,” San called back, not turning around.

He caught Jongho staring at him with a peculiar look on his face, as if he knew exactly every single thing that had transpired between the Slytherin and Gryffindor. Maybe he did, maybe Wooyoung had confided in him. 

“What?” San hissed, his face tingling with warmth.

“Nothing,” Jongho chirped, grinning. “Nothing at all.”

**~*~**

It was a very uneventful Wednesday afternoon, no Quidditch practice scheduled since the maintenance team was taking care of the pitch. San was hanging out with Mingi in the Library working on a particularly pesky _Transfiguration_ essay (two thousand words) they had gotten assigned earlier that day. The Library was quiet, most students working, occasional whispers could be heard but they weren’t loud enough to raise the fury of Mr Do.

San tipped his quill in ink, fumbling with his parchment. He had written only about half of it and it was already giving him a major headache.

Their peaceful atmosphere was interrupted when a blur of golden and red came inside. Yunho looked completely undone, his eyes wide. It was an unusual sight.

“I need your help,” he hissed, stumbling over his words as he was breathing harshly. Snow dotted his black Hogwarts robes; it seemed he had come from outside. “Hongjoong is about to murder someone.”

“What… happened?” San asked slowly. He had his quill still inside the inkwell.

Yunho bit the inside of his cheek, guilt coloring his face. “So… About that prank—” he started.

“Oh, no,” Mingi muttered.

“I swear I had good intentions,” Yunho quickly defended himself. “Jongho and I thought it would be a good idea to uh, force Hongjoong and Seonghwa to talk…”

“What did you do?” 

“We um, locked them inside the Quidditch changing rooms. We thought they’d talk… _They did_!” he insisted when Mingi was already shaking his head. “But then something went wrong. I’m not sure what. They’re off worse than before. Hongjoong hexed Seonghwa, who hexed him and now—” He took in a very deep breath, shooting Mr Do an apologetic smile. “Now we have an upcoming, secret Quidditch match against Seonghwa and his friends,” he rushed out in a whisper.

Silence spread over the Library table. San didn’t move, his quill drowning in ink by now. Mingi rubbed his temples.

“You’re kidding,” he said.

“I’m not.”

“ _Great_.”

“Hongjoong knows this was my idea, so I need your help. He’s going to murder someone. He saw me briefly before I ran. He used my full name and all,” Yunho ranted, his voice raising again.

Mr Do made a timely appearance, glaring at them. “If you’re not going to _quietly_ study, please find a better place,” he said, meaning he was asking them nicely to leave the Library without deducting points from their houses.

“Yes, sir,” San complied quickly, already gathering his belongings.

“I swear by Merlin, if we get you out of this alive, Yunho, you owe us big time,” Mingi said.

“Anything you want!” the Gryffindor squeaked. It was incredibly strange seeing him so stressed.

As they left the Library, walking down the empty corridor, San turned to face Yunho. 

“And you really don’t know what happened between them?”

Yunho shook his head. “I’m telling you, it started off well. Then, all of a sudden, there was loud yelling. Jongho and I quickly unlocked the door—we locked it with a spell that couldn’t be opened with _Alohomora_ —and it was complete chaos. At some point there was a bench flying!” he exclaimed, shuddering. “I thought they were finally ready.”

“I _would_ flip if you forced me into a confined place with the Little Ice King,” Mingi muttered.

San wondered if Mingi had already told Yunho and Hongjoong about almost kissing Yeosang, from the looks of it he hadn’t. San’s heart shook a little as he imagined himself locked into a room with Wooyoung. The Gryffindor had been so unpredictable lately that San couldn’t fathom what would happen. After almost kissing twice, there was no telling if it would happen a third time or if Wooyoung would get angry at him for something San thought wasn’t as serious, or San getting angry for something equally as unpredictable. 

“Wait in the Kitchens,” Mingi said as they reached the stairs, addressing Yunho. “San and I will convince Hongjoong to speak to you. Then you’ll be on your own.”

“Yes, I—Thank you.” He rubbed the back of his neck. “I owe you.” He smiled sheepishly.

“You do,” Mingi said, scrunching his nose. “You know he can’t stay angry at you for long. He’s too fond of you,” he reassured the tall Gryffindor.

It was half an hour before dinner time, but they found the Hufflepuff Prefect sitting at the Hufflepuff table in the Great Hall already. He looked like a statue, perfectly still, with a deep frown edged into his forehead. He didn’t even blink when they got to him.

“So…” Mingi started. “Yunho is _very_ sorry for his prank.”

Hongjoong hummed.

“He is ready to face you and beg for your forgiveness,” San added carefully.

Again, Hongjoong hummed.

“He’ll do anything.”

“How about turn back time and _not_ lock me up in the changing rooms with Park,” Hongjoong muttered through gritted teeth.

“That’s impossible, but anything else!” San told him, aiming for a cheerful tone.

Hongjoong stayed quiet for a moment, then he let out a long sigh. His body unfroze and he gave them a very blank look. “Where is he hiding?”

“The Kitchens,” they replied in unison.

“And it’s not another one of his pranks? I can’t believe he pranked _me_!”

“It’s not a prank. He is truly sorry,” Mingi promised him.

Hongjoong pushed himself away from the table and got up, he shot both boys a look—it said that if this was another trap he would end them. San never had been on the end of that look, he shuddered. How was Seonghwa not scared of Hongjoong, he wondered. Then again Seonghwa could be quite scary himself and it was another question how Hongjoong was not scared of the Ravenclaw Prefect.

“Do you think Yunho will be alright?” he asked once Hongjoong was out of the Great Hall and the tense atmosphere had settled a bit.

“He will be. It’s not as if we never have had fights with each other,” Mingi told him. He craned his neck to sneak a peek at the Ravenclaw table. San followed his gaze. Seonghwa sat there, rigid, with his eyes cast downwards. He looked pensive; his friends were trying to gain his attention, but Seonghwa wasn’t paying them much attention, too preoccupied with his thoughts. 

As if he sensed their eyes on him, he looked up. His eyes met San’s and there was something in them; San couldn’t quite tell, but he could sense a shift of some sorts. They weren’t as hostile, rather probing. Seonghwa’s eyebrows shot up in question. San didn’t know what he was asking, but most likely about Hongjoong.

“Do you think Seonghwa will be alright?” San decided to ask then.

“Who knows?” Mingi shrugged. “They used to be worse, in their first and second year. In retrospect, I think Yunho might have done them a favor.”

San frowned. “But he said they fought—there was a bench flying!” he repeated Yunho’s words.

Mingi laughed.

“Sometimes it has to all break and fall apart before it gets better,” he said. “Whatever their fight was about, I think it has changed them.”

“So you think this pranking might come to an end?”

The tall Hufflepuff hummed in thought. “I’m not sure about that. I think they enjoy it way too much, but something will change, I know that for sure.”

San watched him before he asked tentatively, “Has something changed between Yeosang and you?”

Mingi returned his gaze, his face contorted into something complicated. “Maybe. But Yeosang and I have always been different from Hongjoong and Seonghwa. Their rivalry started through some petty argument in their first year—I barely even remember what it was. Yeosang and I, well, it’s more my fault that we are the way we are. I was going through a hard time and I always felt like he was looking down on me, which I realize isn’t true at all—he told me. I started calling him the Little Ice King to feel better about myself and to get a reaction out of him,” he explained to San, a little incredulous laugh escaping him. “I was so stupid,” he added. He ran a hand through his dark blue hair, as if shaking those thoughts off. “I have yet to apologize for that. I think he’s waiting for it.”

“Then what?” San asked boldly and unfiltered. He flinched, feeling hot as embarrassment engulfed him. “Sorry. I mean, what will happen once that rivalry is gone?” 

The question was only partly for Mingi, the other part was for San himself as he wondered what would happen to Wooyoung and him; they already were in a strange spot with their most recent interactions, a push and pull that they couldn’t quite seem to settle. Were they rivals? Were they strangers? Could they be friends—more than friends even? 

San knew, as much as he wanted to taste Wooyoung’s lips, he needed to guard his heart; the thought of getting his heart broken by Wooyoung wasn’t something he wanted to deal with, wasn’t something he would easily recover from. From their two almost kisses he knew Wooyoung wanted to kiss him too; but what was his reasoning? Was it part of a prank?

Merlin, he hoped not, that would definitely shatter his heart.

“I’m not entirely sure,” Mingi replied. “For as long as I can remember, being at Hogwarts always meant to have this rivalry going on next to our classes, our Quidditch matches… It’s always _been_ there. It’ll be new not to have that in the back of my mind. That—” He stopped himself, food appearing on the long tables. Hongjoong and Yunho were still gone.

“That what?” San poked. He usually let unfinished sentences float in the air, never wanting to test someone’s borders, but he believed that if Mingi might have an answer, it could help San find his own.

Mingi drew his bottom lip in, biting on it. “It would shed a new light onto everything. I’ve realized I don’t really want to keep fighting, keep this charade up. There are different, less cruel ways, to get Yeosang’s attention,” he added the last sentence with a very quiet, out of character voice. Soft and almost dreamy, his cheeks were turning pink.

“ _Oh_.” San looked at him. It was unusual for Mingi to show this side of himself. It was almost too private for San to witness, but Mingi seemed to trust him with it—more than he did Hongjoong and Yunho apparently. “You like him, don’t you?”

Mingi nodded. “I don’t know when it happened, but I think I do. Yeosang is—He is very different from me, and from what I thought.”

The way he said it sounded as if the two had hung out recently, away from the rivalry, away from their judgement towards one another, and found a bond. San wondered how long that had been going on. He had been too preoccupied with his own strange and bumpy relationship with Wooyoung to notice anything had changed.

“Are you two friends?” he inquired.

Mingi laughed, shaking his head. “I don’t know what we are.”

San had another question on the tip of his tongue, but he held it when Hongjoong and Yunho entered the Great Hall, rushing toward the Hufflepuff table so they wouldn’t miss dinner. 

Yunho shot them a sheepish smile and a discreet thumbs up.

When Hongjoong sat down, he filled his plate with diverse food, and gave his friends a scrutinizing look. 

“Don’t attempt something like that ever again,” he said. “I love you, so please don’t break my trust like that. This rivalry might seem ridiculous to you,” he looked at Yunho, “but to me it isn’t. Park and I have our differences, and…” he breathed in, it was trembling. “And he hurt me. He hurt me beyond these pranks.” There was a shadow across his face. San wondered what had gone down in the Quidditch changing rooms, or perhaps it had happened far before that. “We have that secret Quidditch match against them this Saturday, I hope you three will give it your best. The loser has to do anything the winner asks, and they’re not allowed to prank the winners for a week,” he revealed. “That should be a good incentive to show your best side at the match.”

He received affirmations in response; San wanted to ask how Seonghwa had hurt him, but he kept the question to himself. He knew right now was not a good time, maybe there never would be.

Hongjoong wasn’t done yet, he continued, “And I agreed with Yunho, we’re calling in a truce soon. I need a break from Park.” His eyes flitted over to Mingi for a second, softening. “I don’t want to put you in danger.”

Mingi’s lips became a thin line, he was sharing a silent conversation with Hongjoong.

“But didn’t Seonghwa say he wouldn’t tell his secret, that he understood the seriousness of the situation?” 

Hongjoong looked at San then, he let out a sigh. “He once promised me something else and he broke that promise.”

The surprised look on both Yunho and Mingi’s faces indicated that they hadn’t known about this, about Seonghwa and Hongjoong sharing a promise.

San remained quiet after that, his chest heavy.

**~*~**

Yeona’s son always liked action packed movies so San grew up with a wide variety of movies with that thematic, and when they faced Seonghwa, Yeosang, Jongho, and Wooyoung that Saturday night on the Quidditch field it reminded San a lot of one of those action movies: the enemies facing each other for the last stand. 

_Maybe it will be the last,_ San thought; it certainly felt like the last. He couldn’t quite pinpoint why but it was written on all of their faces; something _was_ coming to an end.

“Wooyoung and Yunho will stand as referees,” Seonghwa said. 

No protests came. It was widely known that Wooyoung wasn’t a fan of flying or knew anything about Quidditch, despite being friends with three very avid Quidditch players. Yunho had opted out of the match himself so it would be even. San believed there might have been another reason that he wasn’t playing.

“The first team to get 150 points wins, otherwise we might be here until the morning and we can’t afford that,” Yunho said. “The Golden Snitch won’t be used.” He exchanged a look with Hongjoong, who already had his mouth parted to protest. “You can’t afford getting into detention. You’re Prefect and Captain of the Quidditch Team, have some responsibility.”

San wondered what exactly they had talked about in the Kitchens; there was an undeniable tension still between the two friends. It made him worry. 

He felt guilty too. To him it looked as if since his arrival in the triumvirate the dynamics had shifted and changed; that he brought a different wind along. He couldn’t quite tell if it was for the better or worse yet. Not just with the Hufflepuffs and their Gryffindor, but the same counted for the Ravenclaws and their Gryffindor.

Wooyoung and San’s complicated relationship seemed to have impacted them as well.

“We have divided the teams with Seonghwa as Keeper, Jongho as Beater, Yeosang as Chaser; and Hongjoong as Keeper, Mingi as Beater, and San as Chaser,” Wooyoung explained. “As Yunho already said, we will play until one team reaches 150 points so it won’t drag out for too long. Don’t try any nasty tricks, no spells are to be involved. Play as clean as you would during an official Quidditch match.” He produced a whistle from his coat pocket, he placed it between his lips as he waited for the players to mount their brooms. Yunho was holding up the Quaffle, the Bludgers already spinning around the field. 

“Ready?” Yunho asked no one in particular. 

Hongjoong gave a nod as Seonghwa said, “Ready as ever.”

Wooyoung sounded the whistle. 

San propelled himself off the ground, shooting up into the air. The Quaffle was two meters below him, which gave Yeosang a head start, but Yeosang usually played as Seeker, not Chaser, and was unfamiliar with the large ball. San surged down, taking it seconds before Yeosang could, and flew in the direction of the Ravenclaw goal posts. 

Seonghwa stopped the Quaffle easily, he was an excellent Keeper. Thankfully Yeosang wasn’t an excellent Chaser just as Hongjoong wasn’t an excellent Keeper, they were balanced in that matter. San knew the result of this game heavily relied on him and his abilities as Chaser, he _had_ to beat Seonghwa. 

It wouldn’t be an easy task for him. 

Ravenclaw marked the first 10 points, the Quaffle gracing the tips of Hongjoong’s fingers, he had been too slow to stop the ball. Seonghwa let out a _whoop_ , high-fiving Yeosang.

San spotted Wooyoung on the ground, shooting his friends thumbs up. From up there it was hard to make out the Gryffindor’s face, he was too small, but his black hair was wildly moving to the cold wind, like a crow’s wings in a storm. With the night vision spell, his face looked like one of a ghost, all grey and made of shadows. His glasses were two white circles around his eyes; the opposite of a raccoon, San mused.

He found it a bit ridiculous that he thought Wooyoung looked cute, his heart did a funny little spin, as if it was playing Quidditch on its own. 

“San!” Mingi called out, wildly waving his bat in their air to get the Slytherin’s attention.

“On it!” San tore his gaze away from Wooyoung and intercepted Yeosang’s second attempt to score.

He stole the Quaffle mid air and flew towards the Ravenclaw goal posts, the three rings stood out in a harsh white against the dark night sky. San ducked when a Bludger spun his way, and stopped at a distance, aiming at the lower ring, Seonghwa already flying towards it. In the last second, San changed his aim, and threw the Quaffle at the highest ring. It flew through it neatly.

“10 points for Hongjoong’s team!” Yunho exclaimed.

Mingi let out an encouraging yell.

San grinned. He had played many matches for Slytherin, but this felt entirely different. This was more of a personal victory, almost another test of friendship. 

“Keep that up and we might win!” Hongjoong shouted, grinning madly.

San did a silly salute before he surged towards Yeosang again, who appeared to be still off-kilter with the Quaffle, holding it wrongly, the ball slipping past his fingers. San grabbed it quickly.

“Yeosang!” Wooyoung protested from the ground.

“Sorry!” Yeosang shouted. “But frankly, Wooyoung, I would like to see _you_ try this!”

There was no way for San to see him, but he imagined Wooyoung was rolling his eyes. 

Soon enough he scored another 10 points, much to Seonghwa’s chagrin. With startlement, San realized right then that in this game their only real rival was the Ravenclaw Prefect. Jongho wasn’t too into it, like he wasn’t too into the prank wars either, and Yeosang, much like Mingi, had lost the heat behind the rivalry. He was only half heartedly giving his best. Hongjoong’s team was at an advantage. 

San felt a little bad for Seonghwa. The fire behind the Ravenclaw’s eyes was bright, his will to win this was strong, but so was Hongjoong’s. And San’s.

He wasn’t sure why he was so determined to win, maybe it was because it was another test—see how willing he was to make Hongjoong win—or maybe because he really wanted to win against Wooyoung—win at least something since his heart had long lost.

When the game stood at 130 to 90 for Hongjoong’s team, Yeosang and Jongho played with even less enthusiasm, and Seonghwa seemed to have noticed. He angrily shouted at them more than not, his face red with exhaustion and irritation.

Then something strange happened. San couldn’t tell if it was his imagination or not, but from the looks of it Hongjoong let Yeosang score two times in a row. San frowned, he wasn’t going to lose, not after trying so hard to score points—Seonghwa was a noteworthy Keeper.

Maybe now San knew better, and he read this action as Hongjoong trying to soothe the Ravenclaw Prefect’s anger. He too must have sensed Seonghwa’s desperation to win this, against the lack of will of his own team.

San flew near the Hufflepuff rings so Hongjoong could pass him the Quaffle, but he didn’t leave without asking, “What are you doing? Are you letting him win?”

Hongjoong’s look was hard to decipher in the night vision.

“No,” he said. “I’m not.”

“Then what was that? You let Yeosang score, _twice_.”

Hongjoong threw the Quaffle with a little bit more force behind it than what was deemed friendly.

“Don’t ask me that. I can’t answer it.”

“Are you—Do you like him?” San asked softly. He wasn’t sure Hongjoong had heard him since it was windy and no answer came, but he swore he could see the Hufflepuff flinch.

As San made his way over into enemy territory, he could hear a faint answer being carried toward him through the wind.

“I pity him, that’s all.”

But it sounded like a lie.

Was he lying for the same reasons as San? Scared of getting his heart broken by the one person he couldn’t stand that act from. Or was it the embarrassment of having fallen for his rival? San couldn’t imagine what it must be like to suddenly develop feelings for someone he had disliked for years, someone he had fought with and tried as hard as possible to keep at an arm’s length… 

His own story with Wooyoung was different as much as it was similar, it was true they had become rivals in the short time, but San could sense there was more between them; that _more_ that he couldn’t name and didn’t know because a large part of it was up to fate and another large part of it belonged to Wooyoung himself.

The way in which he always used San’s whole name with that statement behind it, that let it be more than just his name. Wooyoung knew something and San wanted—needed—to know too.

When San marked the last 10 points for Hongjoong’s team, Seonghwa let out a very frustrated cry. It was a tense air as Yeosang and Jongho landed on the ground near the Ravenclaw Prefect. Wooyoung was already jogging over to them, his hair messed up by the wind, a dangerous glint in his eyes.

“What, in Merlin’s name, was _that_?!” he demanded.

“I don’t know, ask them!” Seonghwa responded equally as heated. He ran a hand through his dark hair and shot daggers at Hongjoong.

Their victory was short lived as an argument broke out on the other side of the court.

“Someone’s not taking it well,” Mingi said, tilting his head curiously. “I wonder why he didn’t…” But the remainder of his words got swallowed by the wind and the loud shouting.

“I admit I feel a little bad. That game was hardly fair,” San said. He gave Hongjoong a meaningful look.

“It _was_ fair. Three versus three. If Seong—Park’s players weren’t giving their best, that hardly is our fault,” Hongjoong reasoned.

“Giving their best,” San repeated thoughtfully. He glanced at Mingi, who had slacked off during the game, but no one seemed to have noticed except from San.

They quietened down when Seonghwa came stalking toward them, but to everyone’s surprise he didn’t attack Hongjoong, instead he came for Mingi, grabbing a fistful of his dark Quidditch uniform.

“Whoah, Prefect, I think you got the wrong Hufflepuff.”

“No. It’s you. What did you _do_ to him?” Seonghwa hissed through gritted teeth, he had a wild look in his eyes. With his free hand he was gesturing at Yeosang.

To San’s surprise, Mingi’s eyes widened and a vulnerable look crossed them. He locked them with Yeosang’s, who seemed exasperated and embarrassed on behalf of Seonghwa’s outburst.

“I—” Mingi squeaked out, his voice uncharacteristically high. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Seonghwa growled. “Did you put him under a spell? Give him a love potion? _Threaten_ him?”

“I did none of that!” Mingi defended himself. He too was becoming agitated.

“Seonghwa,” Yeosang spoke up, he was massaging his temples. Wooyoung was looking at him as if he had betrayed them. “He did nothing to me. I just didn’t feel like investing my strength into this.”

Seonghwa slacked, his hand still grabbing Mingi’s uniform, but his fingers were loose. The betrayed and broken look on his face was only visible to them—San, Yunho, Mingi, and Hongjoong. The tall Hufflepuff stepped back, passing a flat hand over his shirt to unwrinkle it. He gave Seonghwa a very nasty look and mumbled something under his breath.

“How about we calm down?” Yunho tried.

The Ravenclaw Prefect looked at him, all his anger now on the tall Gryffindor. “Shut up!” he seethed. “I’ve always thought you were the more sensible one, that there was reasoning with you, but after that stunt you pulled with Jongho—”

“ _Seonghwa_ ,” Hongjoong’s voice cut through the night. It was sharp and meaningful. He took hold of Seonghwa’s arm and pulled him into the darkness. 

A pregnant silence filled the air, the six remaining boys exchanging very tense and troubled looks.

“I can’t believe you let them win, Yeosang,” Wooyoung said accusingly.

Yeosang turned toward him sharply. “I didn’t let anyone win. You knew I was against this from the start,” he said, exhaling harshly. “And don’t pretend as if you aren’t in the same boat as me.”

Wooyoung looked shocked, his lips parted in a silent gasp. He furtively glanced at San.

“Okay. That’s enough,” Jongho said. He turned toward Yunho. “You won. We won’t play any pranks for a week and if there’s anything you need, we’ll do it. Is that right?”

For a moment Yunho was still, his eyes flitting between Wooyoung and Yeosang, shocked as well, then he slowly nodded his head.

“Yes, that’s right.”

San’s mind was reeling. Had Yeosang’s words to do with Mingi? If so, what did he mean in the same boat? _What_ was that boat? San stared at Wooyoung, who was staring back at him.

“We should leave before someone says something they’ll regret,” Jongho continued. He looked at his two friends. “Come on, Seonghwa will find his own way back.” He tugged at their shoulders.

“Right,” Wooyoung said distantly. He shook his head, looking away from San. “Right.”

The three boys made their way over the Quidditch field until the darkness swallowed them, only the tips of their wands were visible, their bodies shadows. San watched them go, the urge to follow them, to get a hold of Wooyoung and question him was strong, but he pushed it aside in favor of organizing his mind. There was still time for him to ask the Gryffindor about what exactly he meant when he said San’s name, and about Yeosang’s words.

Right now they had more pressing matters, like Hongjoong in the distance, right below the stands, discussing with Seonghwa. Their voices were raised and carried over to them.

“Yunho,” Mingi said. “Do you really not know what went down in the changing rooms?”

The Gryffindor looked troubled. “Well… Jongho and I overheard _some_ of it. I promised Joong I wouldn’t tell. I can’t risk breaking his trust again.”

Mingi considered this, then he asked, “Is it about what happened last year?”

Yunho let out a sigh. “Yes.”

“What happened last year?” San asked carefully.

Yunho and Mingi shared a look, the latter running a hand through his hair. “It was during a Quidditch game, Hufflepuff versus Ravenclaw. Haseul hit Seonghwa with a Bludger, pretty badly. He plummeted to the ground, if it weren’t for Hongjoong… Well, I’m certain Professor Im would have saved him somehow, but Hongjoong swept him up seconds before he collided.” San shivered, the memory from last year came back, when he had been hit by a Bludger himself. The sensation wasn’t pleasant. “When Hongjoong arrived on the ground, he let go of Seonghwa, who was still conscious. They started arguing right there. Seonghwa began questioning why Hongjoong had done that—why save him.” He gazed at the two Prefects in the distance, their voices weren’t raised anymore. It was hard to tell if they were still talking at all or just silently staring at one another. “I landed a bit behind Hongjoong, I overheard some of it. Seonghwa didn’t want to believe that Hongjoong had saved him out of the goodness of his heart. No matter how much Hongjoong insisted he had acted on instinct.”

“It’s funny, you know,” continued Yunho. “They are rivals, but weirdly they are very aware of each other’s presence. To the point they immediately know when the other is in danger.”

San thought back to the thestral feeding, when Hongjoong had jumped in front of the thestral mother, which he couldn’t even see, to protect Seonghwa from possible danger. 

Mingi cleared his throat, continuing, “Later, Hongjoong was very concerned about his own actions, questioning why he had acted that way. He said he had done it without even thinking, that the terrible image of Seonghwa hurting had taken over, shutting everything else out, and he had dived down to save him.”

“So it’s nothing new?” San wondered. “When he saved Seonghwa from the thestral, that was nothing new?”

Yunho shook his head. “It wasn’t. I guess that must have triggered the memories from last year. I think he’s questioning it again.”

“Last year he was still scared of what that meant, but now… I think he’s ready to admit it, to explore the possibility…”

“The possibility,” San echoed, frowning, but then it dawned on him. “He likes him, doesn’t he? Despite all odds, he likes him.”

Yunho and Mingi nodded their heads, the former with a small smile.

“He does. I’m sure Seonghwa likes him too, but he’s too emotionally stunted to realize it.” He laughed. “All that brain but he doesn’t know how to understand his own feelings and those of others.”

“I think Seonghwa knows,” San said. “But he’s scared.”

“That might be true,” Mingi agreed. “Do you reckon they’ll solve it any time soon?” he asked, jerking his chin at the two Prefects.

Yunho grinned. “Doubt it.”

“We should save them from themselves,” San agreed.

They walked over to Hongjoong and Seonghwa; the closer they got the more distinguished their quiet voices became. They were standing close, but there was still a very obvious distance between them. Hongjoong startled when he noticed his friends.

“It’s late,” the Hufflepuff Prefect told Seonghwa. “We’ll talk about this another time.” He said it in a way that sounded a little like a question, desperately waiting for the Ravenclaw’s answer. 

Seonghwa held Hongjoong’s intense gaze, then he nodded his head. He walked off, muttering _Lumos_ under his breath. The four boys stayed put in the Quidditch field, mostly so it wouldn’t be awkward and they’d end up walking back at the exact same time as Seonghwa.

“Did you calm his anger?” Mingi asked.

“A little,” Hongjoong admitted. “He’s not angry anymore at Jongho and Yunho. He’s also not angry at his friends.”

“Is he angry at you?” San probed.

Hongjoong shrugged, but there was a small smile on his face: he knew something they didn’t.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> btw if you have any questions, my [curiouscat](https://curiouscat.qa/mist_)!!
> 
> my twitter: @hhhjoong
> 
> heads up, the next update might take a while since im trying to finish the last 2 chapters at once and post them quickly!!!
> 
> \- jack💛


	6. Slytherin & Gryffindor

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this was only meant to have 30k words tbh but then i decided to make it longer bc i rlly love this little universe and you all seem to cherish it just as much, so i hope you enjoy all the extra material haha

_The Three Broomsticks_ was a widely known and loved pub between the Hogwarts students and professors alike. San had only been there once, in his third year, during his first trip to Hogsmeade. He had sat awkwardly with his Slytherin Teammates as they had freely talked and joked around, San sitting a bit to the side. He had felt left out, the place too crowded and loud.

He remembered seeing Wooyoung sitting with Seonghwa and Yeosang, the three boys busy in what appeared to be a very serious conversation. Later he discovered it had been about their club, the one Seonghwa had opened for them, where they played some Muggle game. At the time, San had felt envious of the three boys—of their friendship. 

Now, San walked into _The Three Broomsticks_ with Hongjoong, Mingi, and Yunho and he could see its charm. A sense of familiarity filled him as he watched the different Hogwarts students filling up the small establishment, talking among themselves. 

The Ravenclaws and Wooyoung walked in right behind them, complaints falling from their lips. Hongjoong had ordered them to pay for their Butterbeer. Jongho was exempt from this trip to Hogsmeade, and the punishment, as he had an important essay to finish with Felix and Eunbin.

“This is so unfair,” Wooyoung bemoaned.

“It _could_ be worse,” Yeosang only said to him. “They could have forced us to pay for the entire afternoon…”

Wooyoung clasped his hand over Yeosang’s mouth, hissing, “Don’t give them ideas!”

“Oh, please. We have plenty of good punishments planned,” Hongjoong scoffed, offended that Wooyoung would think his mind worked so boring. 

“We do?” Mingi wondered, shooting the Prefect a very lazy look. San could tell his heart wasn’t all that into the prank war anymore. He had slacked off at the Quidditch game, but it appeared that only San had noticed. Maybe because he knew Mingi’s secret—his other secret, the one Hongjoong and Yunho didn’t know.

San, the bearer of secrets. Yet no one knew his own secret.

They found a table relatively far away from the door, pushed against a wall near the bar counter, with a plant half hiding it. Quickly they sat down, Mingi and Yunho fighting over who would sit on the comfortable couch. 

Seonghwa rolled his eyes and addressed Hongjoong, “What exactly will your order be?”

“Seven Butterbeer,” Hongjoong said, sitting on one of the chairs. 

San squeezed himself on the couch, laughing when Yunho was pushed off his seat. The tall Gryffindor grumbled in protest. Mingi patted the spot next to him, gesturing at Yeosang to come over.

Yunho eyed them suspiciously, but didn’t say anything. He accepted his fate and sat near San.

“Seven?” Seonghwa repeated, surprised. “That’s a lot of Butterbeer…”

Hongjoong smiled kindly, but there was mischief hidden in his eyes. The always present chaos dancing in them that manifested itself mostly around Seonghwa.

“Well, yeah. I included you guys,” he explained. “Unless you have something else planned.” 

The Hufflepuff tilted his head, awaiting a response.

“ _Oh_.” Seonghwa’s face turned red very, very quickly. “N-No, that’s fine. We’ll… We’ll sit with you.” 

He grabbed Wooyoung’s arm tightly and dragged him to the counter, heatedly whispering to him.

“How come Yeosang isn’t going with them?” Yunho asked, folding his legs and giving Mingi a very curious look. 

Yeosang didn’t say anything, he looked at Mingi too.

“Because he doesn’t owe me anything. It’s all settled,” the tall Hufflepuff replied. 

In a very awkward and yet nonchalant way Mingi moved his arm around the headrest of the couch, his fingers gracing the back of Yeosang's neck. The Ravenclaw tensed before he slowly settled back comfortably. San raised his eyebrows, curiosity nearly getting the best of him. Yunho didn’t look any better, nearly exploding with excitement and curiosity. Hongjoong’s eyebrows danced with a little bit of mischief. 

“We have decided to just drop the rivalry and start over.” Mingi shrugged with one shoulder, as if it was nothing, but his friends could see there was a lot more to it, and that the tip of his ears were pink.

“Must be nice…” San muttered, glancing at where he could see part of Wooyoung’s head.

Hongjoong hummed.

“Well, it was about time, Mingi,” the Hufflepuff Prefect commented cheekily. “I was getting tired of your rants about how infuriating Yeosang is and at the same time how pretty he is!”

“Brave…” Yunho muttered.

“Too brave,” San agreed. “Mingi could end him with one word.”

But Mingi didn’t end him with one word, he just smiled and waved at someone in the distance.

“Yo, Changbin! Yeonjun! There are still free spots at our table!"

“What are you doing?” Hongjoong asked, startled.

Mingi tipped his head back, looking at Hongjoong. “Payback.”

Changbin and Yeonjun joined them, a little confused but appreciating the offer to sit at a table.

“Captain!” Changbin greeted Seonghwa, who was coming back with half the Butterbeer. The Ravenclaw Beater grinned widely as he urged Seonghwa to take the seat next to him.

Hongjoong scoffed.

“Oh, that’s evil, Mingi,” Yunho whispered, but he sounded impressed.

Mingi raised his Butterbeer in salute.

“I don’t think I’m quite following,” Yeosang said, frowning.

“Joong gets jealous easily,” Mingi explained quietly. He jerked his chin at the murderous expression on Hongjoong’s face as Seonghwa and Changbin were hitting it off, talking about Quidditch mostly. The Ravenclaw Beater, unaware of the intense gaze set on him, was laughing freely as he bumped his shoulder into Seonghwa’s.

Yeonjun disappeared to help Wooyoung carry the remaining Butterbeer and order himself and Changbin something.

“Wait, so he _likes_ Seonghwa?” Yeosang cleared up, his eyebrows shooting up.

It was the most expressive face San had ever seen him make.

“Yup,” Yunho and Mingi replied at the same time.

San wanted to add to the conversation, but a heavenly looking Butterbeer was placed down in front of him and seconds later Wooyoung sat down right opposite from San. He wore an irritated grimace and took a huge sip of his own drink. 

He noticed San staring at him.

“Is there something on my face?”

“Actually, yeah,” San admitted. His heart was reaching his throat when he leaned forward and softly passed his thumb over Wooyoung’s Cupid bow, where a cape foam was lingering.

Wooyoung inhaled sharply, it sounded like he was gasping and choking at the same time. His face was quick to turn red.

“Choi San!” he protested.

San’s name sounded so full of indignation, like he was a child that had stolen candy. 

“Jeong Wooyoung,” he replied calmly. Maybe he was getting the hang of it because Wooyoung grumbled something under his breath, crossed his arms as he leaned into his chair, and regarded San with a peculiar look. It wasn’t a grimace, or anything unfriendly. Almost as if he was appraising him.

“Choi San…” he repeated, softer and friendlier.

“Yes?” San wondered, holding back the giddy smile tugging at his lips. He buried it in the Butterbeer mug, hoping no one else had noticed it.

“You’re infuriating,” Wooyoung told him.

Yeonjun laughed at that. “He means well when he says that,” he told San. 

“Is that do?”

Wooyoung groaned, glaring at Yeonjun. 

“You should see how much Wooyoung and Yeosang bicker, all while they’re cuddling. It’s ridiculous!”

Wooyoung crossed his arms, blowing some of his hair out of his face. 

“Don’t criticize the way I show love!” he complained. “I’m like a cat.”

San held his breath. He was most likely reading too far into Wooyoung’s words, but his heart was like a tumultuous sea. _Love_ , Wooyoung had used. San was gone, a man lost in the sea after a shipwreck.

“Do you like head pats then?” San asked.

Yeosang snorted, but San wasn’t sure if it was due to his words or because Hongjoong was losing a dangerous game called ‘flirting with Seonghwa in a subtle way but not really subtle because Hongjoong didn’t know how to be subtle’. 

“He does!” Yeonjun replied.

“I-I don't,” Wooyoung protested, his face red. “Don’t listen to him,” he advised San, his eyes everywhere but San.

“That’s exactly what a cat would say right before it demands head pats.”

Wooyoung glared at him, but it looked rather adorable than intimidating with his pink cheeks and shy eyes.

“I have a dare for you, Park!” Hongjoong very suddenly and very loudly announced, startling half of the table.

“Uh… Okay,” Seonghwa said, interrupting his conversation with Changbin.

“Yes.” The Hufflepuff pointed a finger at Seonghwa. “I challenge you to enter the _Shrieking Shack_!”

“Merlin… Here we go,” Yunho mumbled as he rubbed his temples.

“The _Shrieking Shack_?” Seonghwa repeated. He exchanged a look with Wooyoung, then with Yeosang. “Sure. Why not? I don’t believe in the stories anyway.”

“Let’s see for how long you can keep this brave act up,” Hongjoong said. He stood up from the table, waiting for Seonghwa to do the same.

“Oh, you meant right now?” The Ravenclaw let out an annoyed sigh. He tipped his head back, finishing the remains of his Butterbeer before he pushed himself away from the table. “Alright,” he said, leveling Hongjoong with a calculating look.

San had no idea what kind of the game the two Prefects were playing, and who was winning and who was losing. He couldn’t tell if they were still rivals or crossing into strange courting.

Hongjoong grinned, for a moment his eyes twinkled in a way that was anything but mischievous. _Giddiness_ , San realized. 

The two Prefects exited the pub, their shoulders bumping as the pub was crowded.

“Shouldn’t someone follow them?” Changbin asked into the round. “To make sure they won’t kill each other?”

Yunho shrugged. “Doubt that’s going to happen.”

Wooyoung’s chair scraped against the floor. “Well, I will sacrifice myself. I don’t trust Hongjoong, if he tries _anything_ —”

“He won’t,” Yunho assured him.

Changbin and Yeonjun looked doubtful.

“I’ll go with,” San offered. Wooyoung tensed, but did not look at him for long, only a passing look.

“Good luck,” Yeonjun said with a short laugh.

Yeosang pushed some loose strands away. He gave Mingi a very meaningful look.

“We’ll come too,” Mingi said.

Yunho threw his hands in the air, muttering and mumbling under his breath—it was probably for the best that they couldn’t hear him, San didn’t want to know what swear words he was using—as he quickly finished his Butterbeer. 

They pushed their way through the tight crowd in _The Three Broomsticks_ , reaching the exit a few minutes later. Outside, the sky was darkening already, thick clouds covering the horizon as a thunderstorm seemed to approach, or perhaps another snowfall.

San hoped for the latter. He could go for another snowball fight. Then he remembered their previous one, Wooyoung’s weight atop him, and his heart beat loudly in his chest. _Maybe not_ , he thought.

The group walked in quick strides toward the little patch of woods that spread out behind Hogsmeade, where the fence stood that led to the _Shrieking Shack_. It was hard to discern much in the falling night, but Wooyoung spotted the typical shimmer of the _Lumos_ spell from behind a group of bushes. 

They found Hongjoong leaning against the fence in a very unbothered way, but his eyes were focused on a second light far away: Seonghwa. Although the Hufflepuff Prefect didn’t seem too worried, his eyebrows were slightly furrowed and he didn’t even notice his friends’ arrival.

“I can’t believe he is willingly entering the _Shrieking Shack_ ,” Changbin said in awe.

Hongjoong rolled his eyes, noticing the group now. “It’s not that scary,” he said, bothered.

“Then, why don’t you go too?” Wooyoung suggested. “I was there and it _is_ creepy.”

San grinned. “I thought you weren’t scared when we went.”

Wooyoung glared at him. He didn’t say the ‘Choi San’ out loud, but he didn’t need to. San heard it anyway, it sounded like Wooyoung was complaining about a fly buzzing around. Something annoying.

San’s grinned widened.

“Hey!” Yeosang suddenly spoke up. He pointed his finger at the dark silhouette of the abandoned house. “His light’s gone!”

Wooyoung gasped and moved forward, but he slipped on the snow. It was almost comical how quickly San reacted, leaning forward to catch Wooyoung.

“Thank you,” the Gryffindor said, turning his face. When he saw that it was San, he tensed and scrambled away. He flattened his coat, his cheeks appeared to be red but it was hard to tell in the shimmer of the _Lumos_ spell. “You didn’t need to catch me. I was fine!”

San rolled his eyes.

“Wooyoung.” Yeosang gave his friend a very exasperated look.

“Yeosang.”

“Where’s Joong?” Yunho asked suddenly.

Hongjoong was running down the hill, toward the _Shrieking Shack_. The light from his wand moved erratically in the darkness. Then there was a loud yell, followed by a startled shriek, and finally hysterical laughter.

“You asshole!” they heard Hongjoong cry.

“Oh, I got you good! You should have seen your face!” Seonghwa’s response came seconds later, laced with laughter still.

“Fuck you!”

“Seems like they’re fine,” Yeonjun said. “I’m freezing, I think I’ll head back.”

“I’ll come with.” Changbin joined him. “See you guys later.”

Yunho watched them go longingly. He watched Seonghwa and Hongjoong’s silhouettes in the distance, bickering as they stood very closely. He sighed heavily.

“I vote we go back too. They’re obviously fine.”

Yeosang nodded his head, smiling at Mingi in a way that could melt ice. Mingi leaned forward, but stopped at the last moment, aware of all the eyes on them. Instead he smiled back at Yeosang, bumping their shoulders together.

“Dinner’s soon. If we get back in time we can relax some,” the Hufflepuff said.

“Meaning you want to make out with Yeosang,” Wooyoung scoffed.

“ _Woo_!” Yeosang protested.

“What? They all know anyway.”

“I really didn’t,” Yunho said. “I kind of guessed.”

San lingered, glancing into the distance at the other two Prefects. It had gotten even darker, it was hard making out their figures.

“What about you?” Wooyoung asked.

It took San a second to realize he was addressing him. 

“Oh, um…” He let out dumbly. He cleared his throat. “I’ll go back as well. It’s cold.”

The group moved back toward Hogsmeade. It looked pretty with the warm lights twinkling on the thin layer of snow, some Christmas decoration already up. The shops were crowded, and a little group had gathered in front of _The Three Broomsticks_. The five students walked toward the entrance, taking the path that led back to Hogwarts.

Mingi and Yeosang walked a bit ahead, in their own world. San watched them with a yearning heart; they were adorable. Two very different personalities that should clash a whole lot more than they seemed to do; well, San supposed, they used to clash quite a lot considering their past rivalry, but now there was a different atmosphere between the two.

With a bleeding heart, he turned his head to his right where Wooyoung was walking at a close distance. 

He was so terrified because he had no idea what Wooyoung felt toward him, but he wanted so badly for something to happen between them. Sometimes he had the impression that it was a possibility, with Wooyoung almost kissing him, and that moment in the snow. But Wooyoung was too hard to read for San, the mixed signals he sent messed him up badly.

San was startled out of his thoughts when Yunho bumped his shoulder. He smiled at him.

“What are you thinking about?”

“Someone,” he replied a bit dazed. “I mean uh, nothing.”

Yunho laughed. “Sure.”

San nervously glanced at Wooyoung to find him staring back. The Slytherin inhaled sharply, the cold winter air making his lungs sting, but it was nothing compared to the burn in his chest.

**~*~**

When San entered his _Potions_ class that Wednesday, his heart dropped all the way to the core of Earth and then soared up to the stars: for a moment he swore the entire classroom smelled of Wooyoung; it was so intense and so mind boggling that San nearly walked into the person in front of him.

Then the smell shifted into the familiar scent of his home and of Hogwarts, and of his friends. The scent of baked goods and wet soil filled the classroom. It was a strange mix of things, and San quickly realized what they’d be learning that day. The cauldron that was standing at the front of the classroom, next to their professor’s table, had spirals of steam rising into the classroom. 

His heart once again sank and flew as he nervously walked toward a group of Slytherins awaiting instructions. Wooyoung stood a few rows to the left, together with Hwanwoong. It was harder than ever to keep his eyes away from Wooyoung.

“Love potions,” Professor Shin Wonhee announced when all students were gathered inside the classroom. “The most known one is named _Amortentia_. You will brew it today.” She took in the eager and dazed faces of the Gryffindors and Slytherins with a smile. “Since it’s a difficult potion I’ll pair you up in groups of two to three, depending on your expertise.”

San tensed.

Professor Shin liked to pair him up with Wooyoung. In the past it hadn’t bothered him much since they hadn’t had a relationship, but it was different now. 

He might go crazy. 

With the scent of the _Amortentia_ potion that made his heart ache, and everything that had happened between them so far, which was building up in San’s mind… He wasn’t sure he’d survive this class.

One thing was being close to Wooyoung after he’d realized his feelings, another was being close to Wooyoung while brewing the most dangerous and powerful love potion. He prayed for his luck not to betray him, but a small part wished to be paired up with the Gryffindor.

He wasn’t sure if they were friends, but after Wooyoung’s reaction in that classroom, getting angry at San, and then attempting to kiss him, San was at a loss of where they stood. With Mingi and Yeosang pretty much being boyfriends, and Hongjoong behaving suspiciously when it came to Seonghwa, San felt like the rivalry was losing meaning, which meant the strange separation between Wooyoung and himself lost meaning too.

He had a choice to make soon, regarding Wooyoung. There would be no point in keeping the enemy façade up if the rivalry fell away. It had been a good excuse to mask and protect his feelings; he didn’t know how to behave if their groups merged and became friendly. Somehow it seemed worse to befriend Wooyoung, always wishing something would occur between them.

“Mr Choi. Mr Jeong. Yes, you, Wooyoung. And Mr Yeo,” Professor Shin announced, pointing at the cauldron in the back of the classroom.

 _Of course_.

San inhaled deeply before he collected his belongings and made his way over to the cauldron. Wooyoung was busy getting the first ingredients for the potion while Hwanwoong heated up the cauldron.

Hwanwoong smiled at San. “I’m glad to be paired up with you and Wooyoung,” he said. “You’re both excellent students.” San hummed. Hwanwoong tilted his head. “Please tell me you two won’t fight… Keonhee got paired up with Seonghwa and Hongjoong yesterday and he said it was a nightmare.”

San raised his eyebrows curiously. He hadn’t heard anything from Hongjoong about that. Mingi had been strangely quiet too.

“What happened?”

Hwanwoong shrugged. “Keonhee didn’t really elaborate. Just mentioned a lot of tension.”

“Wooyoung and I aren’t as bad,” San reassured him. 

Hwanwoong gave him a look, clearly seeing through the lie.

There was a strange, cackling tension between San and Wooyoung, especially after their almost kiss in the snow. San wondered what would have happened if he had surged forward and kissed Wooyoung instead of staying frozen. He wondered about so many things when it came to Wooyoung.

“You’re not?” Hwanwoong questioned, snorting. “You went through his stuff… That’s pretty bad, dude.”

“I apologized to him about it!” San lied. “It wasn’t—I wasn’t doing it to piss him off.”

“Then why did you do it?” Wooyoung asked. He was back and was holding an armful of ingredients (flux-weed, knotgrass, Bicorn horn…), which he dropped on their work table.

Hwanwoong awkwardly cleared his throat. “I’ll uh, I’ll get the leeches and lacewing flies. Yeah. Um, don’t kill each other.” He stumbled over his feet as he escaped.

San’s back prickled uncomfortably. He wished they could have this conversation anywhere else. The classroom was packed with their peers, and on top of that the _Amortentia_ potion was making his mind work slower, and now that Wooyoung was standing right in front of him, it was even harder to string together cohesive thoughts.

“Because I wanted to know,” he said. It sounded lame, and didn’t really make his case better.

“Know what?”

“About you.”

Wooyoung, who had been holding the mortar to pulverize the Bicorn horn, dropped the instrument. It fell to the floor, startling nearby students. 

“You… You wanted to know about me?” Wooyoung inquired, his eyes wide and shimmering. 

San briefly wondered if Wooyoung was affected by the _Amortentia_ potion too or not. His heart stuttered as he remembered their almost kisses, and if he had been just as crazy for San as San had been for Wooyoung. Did the classroom smell of fresh air and taste of snowflakes too?

“Yes,” San admitted quietly. There was no point in hiding it.

Wooyoung already knew San didn’t hate him, he knew so much more than San wished. 

The Gryffindor looked down at the table, his hands playing with the flux-weed as he seemed to think about something.

“Then ask me questions!” Wooyoung exploded. “Don’t go through my stuff!”

San parted his lips, confused. Was he, or was he not angry at him? What exactly was he angry about?

“Uh…” 

Wooyoung lifted his eyes. “Choi San,” he said, it sounded frustrated. Like San had done something mildly bad and hadn’t even realized. “You’re quite a piece of work.”

“What is that supposed to mean?”

Wooyoung bit the inside of his cheek and pressed his lips together. “I should have listened to Yeosang when he said to wait,” he muttered. 

Hwanwoong appeared then, with the last ingredients. San and Wooyoung stepped away from each other—when had they even gravitated so close to one another?

San swallowed, feeling weird and exposed after this conversation. He couldn’t tell what Wooyoung was thinking or what he was feeling, it was more than infuriating. It made him jittery and anxious, his skin prickling as if he was standing next to an open flame.

“Let’s get to work, shall we?” Hwanwoong said, eyeing them with squinted eyes. “And no funny business.”

“Don’t worry.” Wooyoung clicked his tongue. “Choi and I aren’t like that.”

“So San has said, but there is a very suffocating tension here,” Hwanwoong said.

Disgruntled, Wooyoung shoved his housemate. “Shut up.” 

San picked up the mortar and placed the Bicorn horn inside to pulverize it. He kept quiet as he did his tasks.

Professor Shin had put a cover on her cauldron, realizing a little too late that the _Amortentia_ potion was hindering her students from working properly.

“I apologize about that! I keep forgetting the effect the scent alone can have,” she said sheepishly.

“Shame. It smelled like Keonhee,” Hwanwoong said, sighing yearningly. Wooyoung scoffed. “What are you so bitter for?”

Thankfully the two Gryffindor didn’t begin arguing, and the three boys worked quietly on the _Amortentia_ potion. San and Wooyoung didn’t exchange many words, most of the talking was done by Hwanwoong, but occasionally Wooyoung would say, ‘Pass me the cutting board’, or San would say, ‘Here, put this into the cauldron’. 

When the potion already had that distinguished mother-of-pearl sheen and they were nearly done, San collected their utensils to clean them, the back of his hand bumped against Wooyoung’s. The Gryffindor didn’t notice, too focused on the instructions in the _Potions_ book. 

San controlled his breathing, letting his hand rest there for a second longer before he finally walked away. His skin tingled and his heart raced. He felt so ridiculous, it had been such a small gesture, but he was going crazy as if they’d held hands.

He knew everything was amplified due to the _Amortentia_ potions being brewed in the room, but he was gone for Wooyoung.

He put the cutting board and knife in the sink, turning on the warm water. He waited for it to get the perfect temperature.

Suddenly someone appeared behind him, their warmth overwhelming San as well as that familiar scent. His heart skyrocketed, nearly jumping out of his chest. He swallowed and began his task.

“It’s ridiculous that Professor Shin has us cleaning up when there’s magic,” Wooyoung said breathlessly.

San shrugged. “I don’t mind it. At home we don’t use magic.”

“Oh.”

“Wooyoung?” San called out, turning off the water. He turned around, terrified of what he’d find. Wooyoung was standing closer than necessary, holding the mortar and another cutting board, but he made no move to wash them at the other sink. He stood frozen, staring at San. His reading glasses had slipped half down the bridge of his nose, a sheen of sweat on his forehead and temples. His eyes were glazed over, as if he wasn’t really seeing San.

“You…” Wooyoung started. San had to remind himself they were in a classroom full of people, not alone. “You smell of…” But he didn’t elaborate.

“What?”

“It’s very hard to decipher. I don’t even think you smell of anything. Vaguely of shampoo, but there’s something… Indescribable.”

“Okay? What about it?” San held tightly onto the sponge in his hand, soap and water running down his arm.

“It’s stupid!” Wooyoung said. “It’s stupid that your scent is so strong and I can’t even name it!”

San raised his eyebrows. “Is that what the potion smells like to you? Does it smell of me?”

Wooyoung parted his lips, his eyes widening, then he closed his mouth, and glared at San. “I didn’t say that.” He brusquely placed the items in the sink and walked off.

San exhaled, shaking.

 _That was close_ , he thought. His mind buzzed, and his toes felt numb.

A little longer and he would have kissed him.

The thought that lunch would be peaceful was a wishful one. San took his seat by the Hufflepuff table with Yunho, both boys surprised by the excited chatter going around the table.

“What happened?” Yunho asked, filling a mug with steaming tea.

“Gossip!” Keonhee said excitedly. 

Yunho rolled his eyes.

“Oh, Jeong, you’ll want to hear this one. Believe me,” Keonhee insisted. He waved his hand at a fourth year Hufflepuff. “Jisung! Tell Yunho what you saw.”

Han Jisung grinned, obviously enjoying the attention he was receiving from his housemates. 

Mingi arrived just then, his tie was a little askew and his cheeks were pink. San raised his eyebrows in question, but Mingi only shoved him playfully, pressing his index finger against his lips as he fixed his tie.

“I found two Prefects kissing!” Jisung said, waggling his eyebrows.

“That’s it?” Yunho said, scoffing. “I thought it was supposed to be good.”

“A Hufflepuff Prefect and a Ravenclaw Prefect, both fifth years, both boys,” Jisung clarified smugly. “You do the maths.”

“I saw that coming for years,” Jungeun said. “Hongjoong was way too obsessed.”

“His little crush was adorable!” Im Yeojin, one of Hufflepuff’s Chasers, swooned. “I’m glad they’re dating now.”

“They’re not dating,” Yunho said. “Not yet, at least. He’d tell me.”

Mingi hummed. “I think there’s been a lot of secrets going around this year,” he said quietly, only for his friends to hear. “I’m not so sure he would have told us.”

“Secrets?” Yunho echoed. “What secrets?”

Mingi scratched the back of his head. “You know, Yeosang and me…” 

Yunho contemplated it. “Any other secrets?”

Mingi shrugged half heartedly. “Not on my side.”

Both boys looked at San. This seemed like the perfect moment to confess. Even if clearly they were joking around, San couldn’t hide it much longer. He was going crazy. Especially after that arduous and suffering _Potions_ class.

With a dry throat, he spoke, “I might have been hiding something myself.” Mingi and Yunho looked at him expectantly. “Wooyoung and I… Well, nothing happened,” he clarified when Yunho’s eyes looked like they’d fall out of their sockets. “But I really like him. I can’t say why or when that happened, I just do. No reason. As if it was meant to happen, no matter what.”

“That’s cheesy,” Mingi said.

Yunho punched him. “Shut up, Song! This is _romantic_.”

San felt a bit self-conscious now, with the truth out.

“I could ask Yeosang if Wooyoung feels the same,” Mingi offered.

San quickly shook his head, distressed. “Merlin, no! I’m handling it.”

“Honestly, it’s not _that_ surprising,” Yunho said, scratching his chin as he watched over to the Ravenclaw table, where Wooyoung was laughing at something Yeosang had said and readjusting his glasses. The sight made San’s heart tingle. “From the beginning there was something between the two of you. I recall Wooyoung used to have a crush on a Slytherin in his first or second year, maybe that was you.”

“He— _what_?” San repeated.

“Yeah, he had a crush on a Slytherin. It was Gryffindor gossip for quite some time,” Yunho repeated.

San looked down at his plate, his mind racing and his hands trembling. He sincerely doubted it was him, he didn’t really think Wooyoung had noticed him until the end of their fourth year, when he had bumped into him on purpose, making that ink explode in his face.

Before San could interrogate Yunho more about that supposed crush Wooyoung had had years ago, Hongjoong entered the Great Hall. Seonghwa followed seconds later. At first glance, there didn’t seem to be anything suspicious about them, but Yunho immediately clasped his hands around Hongjoong’s shoulders and gave him a grin that was slightly scary.

“Joong, my good friend,” he started. “We’ve heard… a rumor.”

Hongjoong flinched. “A rumor? What kind of rumor?” He passed a hand over his hair, where a strand had been standing up slightly more out of place than the others.

San raised his eyebrows.

“Jisung saw two Prefects kiss. A Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw Prefect!” Yunho said, his voice too loudly.

Jisung looked up, his eyes lighting up. “Oh, the man of the hour is here!”

“Is it true you kissed Park Seonghwa?” Gunhak wanted to know.

“How was it to kiss Seonghwa?” another Hufflepuff asked.

Hongjoong was quick to blush. His eyes darted around as if he was looking for an escape.

“Um…” he started. “We didn’t kiss,” he said lamely.

“I’m pretty sure it was you,” Jisung insisted. He stood up to search for Seonghwa at the Ravenclaw table. “I was so sure it was the two of you…”

“Nope,” Hongjoong said, popping the ‘p’. “You must have seen wrongly. Sorry to disappoint.”

“Oh, shame,” Jungeun said, returning to her food.

Once the clamor at the Hufflepuff table had died down, Hongjoong grabbed Yunho’s red and golden tie to pull him down.

“You fucker, you almost got me exposed,” Hongjoong hissed.

Mingi gasped dramatically. “So it’s true?”

Hongjoong shushed him.

“Please confirm or deny. I’m dying!” Yunho begged.

“We kissed… twice,” Hongjoong admitted very, _very_ quietly. He clasped a hand over Yunho’s mouth. “I swear by Merlin, Yunho, if you don’t shut up—”

“Oh, wow,” San breathed. He wasn’t too surprised by this revelation. He had sensed it since the beginning of the term, the strange tension between the two Prefects that had been antagonistic but with something different and deeper underneath that façade. “Who made the first move?” he asked, then shook his head. “It was you, wasn’t it?”

“Yes,” Hongjoong replied. 

Yunho squealed.

Hongjoong rubbed his temples tiredly. “I uh, once kissed him last year. He didn’t really have a good reaction. He kept teasing me about it this year, the asshole, only to then admit he would like to kiss me again.” Once again Yunho squealed. “If you’re not going to shut up, go eat at the Gryffindor table,” Hongjoong hissed.

“I’ll be quiet now,” Yunho whispered way too loudly.

“It’s funny,” Mingi said. “Both of us kissed a Ravenclaw after we’ve been fighting with them since our first year.”

Hongjoong’s eyes widened. “What Ravenclaw have you kissed?!”

Mingi gave him a very exasperated look. “Really?”

“Wait!” Hongjoong gaped. “ _Yeosang_?!”

“Who else?”

“What…? When did you even _start_ _liking him_?” Hongjoong asked. He filled his plate with food, slowly coming down from the emotional roller coaster. 

Yunho was still high strung, relentlessly tapping his cutlery against the rim of his table as his eyes darted between his two best friends.

Mingi shrugged. “I’m not too sure. It just happened.”

Yunho’s eyes snapped to San, who swallowed. “Now we only need you to kiss Wooyoung and—”

“Sorry, what?” Hongjoong’s eyes snapped toward San too. “Wooyoung and you?”

San let out a nervous laugh. He kept thinking of his almost kisses with Wooyoung. Nervously he tugged at his hair.

“Um, yeah. I kind of like him.”

Hongjoong rubbed his temples. 

“This is ridiculous. How did we all fall for our rivals?”

**~*~**

When mid December approached, the Christmas decorations spread through the entire castle: the knights in the hallways wore decorative wreaths, and mistletoe appeared over door frames—making many students shriek with embarrassed laughter—and some ghosts sang carols as they drifted through the hallways. Jeon Jungkook, the Ravenclaw ghost, cleverly changed some of the carol’s lyrics into suggestive and crude ones, laughing loudly when Mr Byun tried to stop him.

San loved Christmas, usually it meant he’d go home and celebrate with his family, but this year he was staying in Hogwarts as his friends did. He looked forward to the days that promised shenanigans and full moon wanderings, and more candy than they probably could handle.

It helped that the two groups had called a truce, otherwise chaos would have unfolded. But the approaching Christmas break meant a lot of free time and a lot of reflecting, such as San pondering about Wooyoung and what he was meant to do. Now that his feelings weren’t a secret anymore, Yunho and Mingi kept jabbing their elbows into his ribs whenever Wooyoung was near in a way that was definitely not subtle.

Jongho had picked up on it and questioned San about it.

They were sitting in the Library, it was only five days from the break, and San was focused on his _Transfiguration_ essay. He didn’t notice Wooyoung and Jongho entering the Library, stopping at the table San worked at with Mingi.

San almost spilled all his ink over half his essay when Mingi slapped his shoulder excitedly to get his attention.

“What?!” San asked, more annoyed than intended.

“He’s here,” Mingi replied with a whisper as Jongho and Wooyoung were almost standing in front of them.

Jongho raised his attention as Mingi kept poking San’s shoulder and grinning like a madman.

“What’s gotten into him?”

“Nothing! He’s just being dumb,” San said, laughing nervously.

Wooyoung had his eyebrows raised in amusement. San thought he saw him smiling at him, but he pushed that thought away as wishful thinking.

“Is it really just that? Yunho and Mingi have been acting weird lately,” Jongho pointed out.

Mingi scoffed.

“Rude.”

“It’s true!” Jongho insisted.

“I’m not your friend, and even I have noticed you’re off,” Wooyoung said. 

Mingi whispered something into San’s ear that was too excited and quiet for him to make out. He leaned away from Mingi, glaring at him.

“What do you need?” he asked instead.

Wooyoung shrugged.

“I was wondering if you’d like to come play with us?” Jongho offered, much to Wooyoung’s dismay. “Mingi, you’re also invited, of course. I’m sure Yeosang would be delighted.”

“What? _No_!” the Gryffindor protested. “Are you crazy?! That’s my safe place.”

Jongho rolled his eyes, exasperated. “It’s San. You’ve known him for years. Stop acting like he’s going to eat you.”

“I can hear you,” San said, but not with much heat behind his words. 

Wooyoung glared at him. “Yes. That’s the point, Choi.”

“You know we have the same family name, right?” Jongho said, his tone teasing. “You’ll have to call him by his actual name.”

Wooyoung made a face as if Jongho had just told him he’d spit in his food.

“He’s right, Wooyoung. Why don’t you call San by his name?” Mingi teased, obviously thinking he was doing San a favor, but San was dying of embarrassment.

“It’s okay,” San tried. He smiled at Wooyoung.

“No, whatever,” Wooyoung said. “They’re right. It’s not that meaningful anyway.”

San stared up at him. It was odd being smaller than Wooyoung, in the past years that he’d grown taller than him, the advantage he had over the Gryffindor was nice. From down there, he felt like he couldn’t see Wooyoung’s whole face.

“San,” Wooyoung said but no words followed.

“See? Wasn’t so hard,” Mingi said, patting San’s shoulder. “Your turn.”

“W-What?”

San shivered. 

But Wooyoung shook his head, his face bright and his eyes wide in mortification. He stalked away before anyone could say another word.

Jongho watched him go, shaking his head. “It was his suggestion, by the way. He said we should start inviting you guys to _Dungeons & Dragons_. I don’t know why he pretends to be mean.”

“Oh,” San breathed, his heart skipping a beat. “He wanted me—er, us there?”

Jongho caught his slip up, his eyebrows shooting up.

“Yeah.” Mingi once again elbowed San, his eyebrows waggling.

“Seriously, what the fuck is up with Mingi?” Jongho questioned.

“I said, he was being dumb,” San insisted.

“Is it a werewolf thing? Becoming dumb before a full moon?”

“Ha ha.” Mingi rolled his eyes. “This is about San.”

“Shut up, you—”

“Jongho!” Wooyoung called from the door of the Library. 

Mr Do’s protests followed soon, like a wolf that had smelled its prey.

“I’ll see you later,” Jongho said, meaningfully glancing at San. He’d continued pestering him later, in the Slytherin Common Room.

**~*~**

Instead of four tables lining the Great Hall, there were only two now, all the students and professors that had stayed in the castle for the Christmas break filled up the tables, some empty spots were occupied by the house-elves.

Professor Chae directed the _Frog Choir_ , usually they didn’t do concerts during Christmas as most students left, but that year many had stayed so she had called in an impromptu concert.

San sat down at the wing, playing the keys up and down as he waited for the others to get ready. His fingers were so familiar with the black and white keys by now that he didn’t need to focus too much on the task, and he let his gaze wander around.

He saw Wooyoung and Seonghwa sitting together, the latter was sticking his tongue out at Hongjoong, who was glaring at the Ravenclaw. It had been weird getting used to their blooming friendship and romantic involvement, but they were cute. Somehow it just made sense.

Wooyoung’s eyes kept wandering out, often crossing San’s, but never staying. San hated it. 

He hated how Mingi and Yeosang had gotten their shit together, and even Hongjoong and Seonghwa had managed. 

Wooyoung was proud, and San was nervous. It wasn’t a good combination.

San wished they could just find a moment to talk. He wanted to apologize for reading those parchments.

From afar, Wooyoung kept glancing at him.

San raised his eyebrows, not looking away. Wooyoung glared at him.

‘What?’ San mouthed, but he got no reply.

“He is scared, you know?” a deep voice suddenly said.

San flinched, his fingers stumbling. He looked to his left, where Yeosang was leaning against the wing. He had his arms crossed in front of his chest, swallowed by one of Mingi’s oversized hoodies.

“Wooyoung?”

Yeosang nodded. “He was very nervous when he discovered you read his notes. I have to admit, it’s on Seonghwa and me that he’s angry at you now. We told him he shouldn’t let you off so easily,” he confessed. “In my defence, I didn’t know how you felt about him. I didn’t want him to get hurt by you.”

“How I feel about him?” San echoed. He groaned. “Mingi told you, didn’t he?”

Yeosang smiled kindly. “Yes. I won’t tell anyone, don’t worry. I want what’s best for Wooyoung, and that might just be you. I’m rooting for you, San.”

“But why is he scared?” San asked.

Yeosang’s gaze wavered, he glanced at Wooyoung, who looked at the two of them with panic. His eyes said, ‘Yeosang, don’t you dare’. San wanted to know so desperately.

“He is scared how you’ll react once you know the truth,” Yeosang admitted. “He told Seonghwa, Jongho, and I not too long ago. I have to confess, even I…” But he trailed off, letting the sentence hang in the air. He shook his head, shooting Wooyoung a calm smile. “You’ll see; if he decides to tell you, that is.” Yeosang redirected that calm smile at San, its effect was almost immediate. “You have to promise me you’ll listen until the very end.”

The request was very odd, but San nodded his head.

“I-I promise.”

Satisfied with the response, Yeosang walked off to join the rest of the _Frog Choir_ as Professor Chae was urging them to line up.

San shook his head, focusing on the piano and the songs he was supposed to play, but before he placed his fingers back on the keys, he looked up and found Wooyoung still looking at him. It wasn’t panicked filled anymore, but tender and gentle; and San believed he saw his own yearning reflected. It was gone quickly as Wooyoung realized he’d been caught.

Professor Chae tapped the wing to get San’s attention. “On three,” she said.

When midnight fell over Hogwarts and its grounds, and most students and professors were asleep, San walked out of the Slytherin Common Room. 

Although his fifth year had been one of new experiences, new friendships, and new traditions, there were old ones he couldn’t let go of. He liked the quietud of the castle when no one was awake except for him. It gave him a certain peace of mind, his thoughts could expand into the farthest corners without bouncing off another person.

With a blanket wrapped around his pajamas, he walked toward the Kitchens to make himself a cup of tea. The day had been a rollercoaster, in between waking up to presents—for once not just presents from his cousin and her boyfriend, and Jongho, but from his new friends; even Yeosang had gotten him a pack of _Honeydukes_ chocolates—and another snowball fight that had ended in Hongjoong and Seonghwa sneaking off, whilst Mingi and Yeosang laid in the snow making snow angels and giggling as though the world belonged to them and no one could ruin it. Then, the _Frog Choir_ had done some last minute preparing for the Christmas concert. Lastly, San had sat in the Hufflepuff Common Room with Yunho, Hongjoong, and Mingi, enjoying their sweets and presents and telling tales.

All in all, it had been a marvelous day, but San craved some tranquility to end it off. He had a lot to think about, the year was coming to an end and soon a second term would start and he knew everything would be different by then. He wanted to ponder about his relationship with Wooyoung too: make truce once and for all, and hopefully evolve past the strange tension between them. San was ready to become friends, even if in the back of his mind he’d wonder what it would be like to taste those lips and hold Wooyoung’s hand in the corridors without a care in the world. 

He was fine with it just being a dream.

San entered the Kitchens, lighting the candles with an easy spell before he moved to heat up water for the tea.

He caught movement in the far end of the Kitchens, startling him. He whirled around, his wand held high in front of him, different defense spells already on the tip of his tongue. There was a shadow, but it was too dark for San to make out who or what it was.

“What a surprise,” the shadow said. The voice was familiar.

San lowered his wand, putting it back into his pajama pockets. He let out a relieved sigh, but his heart skipped a beat. _Of course,_ he thought, _of course I’d bump into Wooyoung here, in the dead of the night._

“It seems we both frequent the quietness and loneliness of the castle,” Wooyoung continued, stepping out of the darkness. He was dressed in sweatpants and a hoodie, his Gryffindor scarf firmly wrapped around his neck, his reading glasses sat atop his raven black hair. “I’ll leave,” he added after some hesitance.

“No.” San stepped forward with the intention of wrapping his hand around Wooyoung’s wrist, but he stopped himself in the last second, letting his hand hover in the air awkwardly. “You can stay. I don’t mind.”

Wooyoung squinted his eyes, calculating.

“I wanted to talk to you anyway,” San continued.

Wooyoung stilled, tilting his head. “You did?”

San nodded his head. He opened his mouth to speak, but the words he had perfectly been planning out for days now faded. Before he could get anything past his lips, a loud whistle pierced the Kitchens. 

San startled.

He hastily turned around, his fingers stumbling as he made himself his tea. He was shaking. _Merlin_ , he thought bitterly. Why was it so hard to be honest?

He turned around once again, finding Wooyoung now sitting at the corner of the large table in the center of the room. He seemed just as much on edge as San, his eyes shifting around the Kitchens, his fingers playing with a loose thread of his scarf.

San joined him. He put his tea down carefully, and grabbed one of the candles so they didn’t sit in near darkness.

In desperation to kill the awkwardness, San took a sip of his tea, nearly burning his tongue. He countained his yelp, but he couldn’t keep himself from flinching. Wooyoung glanced at him, San shot him a meek smile.

“You said you wanted to talk…” Wooyoung started, trailing off.

“Yes.” San took in a deep breath. “I wanted to apologize for looking through your stuff. That was really shitty of me. It’s true that I didn’t have any bad intentions when I did so. I wasn’t trying to find a weakness or-or something to make fun of you. I was just… I was just curious. As I said, I wanted to know more about you. I realize that it wasn’t the best way, but I’m—I don’t really know where we stand. Can I even ask you questions? To know more about you?” he was rambling, he knew that, but he couldn’t stop himself. Like a water faucet that had been turned on and forgotten about, he kept going and going. “With the whole rivalry thing, I’m just unsure how close we are. I’m scared of saying the wrong thing, _doing_ the wrong thing… I don’t—” He swallowed. “I don’t want us to be enemies. I told you before, and I’ll say it again, I don’t hate you, Wooyoung.”

San shut his mouth at Wooyoung’s expression. He didn’t look angry or annoyed at his words, but he didn’t look relieved either. It was a very haunted expression, like he’d been scared San would say this.

His heart was rattling in his chest, line a caged lion, and his skin burned. He felt overly exposed and vulnerable, but he had been putting this off for too long. The truth was scary, but to keep it hidden just made him feel prisoned and wrong. He had to set it free.

“Say something?” he begged. “ _Please_.”

Wooyoung inhaled sharply. He looked at San with a complicated expression.

“I don’t hate you either,” Wooyoung admitted very quietly.

This surprised San.

He had thought after the incident on Halloween, Wooyoung would surely hate him. With the way he had avoided him and been angry at him.

“You don’t?” 

Wooyoung shook his head.

“I was angry at you. Seonghwa said I shouldn’t let you off so easily. He was right, but I don’t hate you for it,” he explained himself, shifting in the seat. Silently, San stared at the Gryffindor, sensing there was more he wanted to say. “It’s complicated,” Wooyoung said. His eyes were searching. “There’s a lot you don’t know.”

“What do you mean?” 

“It’s—I don’t know if you’d believe me.”

 _I need to know_ , San wanted to say, but it sounded too demanding. “I’ll believe you,” he said instead. “I trust you,” he added quietly. It was very revealing of his true feelings, but in the dim light and the empty Kitchens he felt as though there was no reason for him to hide it anymore. 

Wooyoung stared at him for a long, long time. It made San a bit self-conscious, and vulnerable. There was something about the way Wooyoung looked at one, stripping them bare of all walls and pretensions. It was powerful. 

San straightened in his seat, deciding to let Wooyoung see all there was.

“The notes you read,” Wooyoung said. “They’re about you.”

The air around them seemed to grow thicker, San could barely breathe. His heart was hammering in his chest, and his face felt warm.

He recalled the words Wooyoung had written; they weren’t a love confession but there was something about them that felt so much more important and stronger than a love confession. An unavoidable truth, woven into the threads of fate. 

There was still so much San wanted to ask about, to know… He wanted to possess the full picture, but it was late and his heart was yearning. He had gotten at least some answers, enough to know that if he kissed Wooyoung now, his heart wouldn’t get broken.

He inhaled deeply, trying to calm his shaking nerves, and looked at Wooyoung.

“You make me hold my breath too,” he said.

The candle between them made shadows dance on Wooyoung’s face, elongated and short, the flame reflecting in his dark eyes beautifully. In the quietud, San’s heartbeat was loud, and there was a rush in his ears as if he’d spent the day at the sea and could still hear its echo. His fingertips trembled with a sizzling electricity that demanded to be noticed.

“Choi San,” Wooyoung said at last.

San understood it—the meaning behind it—full and clear. It was similar to the desperate one Wooyoung had used time before, when they had almost kissed in that classroom. But this time there was no hesitation behind it, from neither of them.

“Jeong Wooyoung,” San answered and hoped it was as clear as his heart.

The confusion San had felt for so long vanished toward the back of his mind, they’d talk in the future about the blanks that were yet to fill in. For now, he wanted to focus on Wooyoung right in front of him.

It was an anticipated moment. 

Carefully, San maneuvered around the candle, moving on the bench so there was nothing between them. He swallowed down his nerves and stared at Wooyoung, waiting.

Wooyoung’s eyes danced around, searching San’s face. He laid it all out in the open.

The Gryffindor extended his hand, letting it hover millimeters from San’s face, and when the tension became too much, he finally took San’s face into his hand, ever so gently.

“I… Can I kiss you?” Wooyoung asked quietly. 

San nodded. 

“You have no idea how long I’ve been waiting,” Wooyoung continued, his voice trembling.

San smiled tentatively. “I think I do. I’ve been waiting for a while too.”

“Since when?” Wooyoung asked, his voice raspy, his body closer. 

San didn’t know why this matterer, but he answered anyway, “I think, maybe, since that moment you made that ink explode in my face.”

Wooyoung smiled, like it was a sweet memory they shared rather than a disastrous one.

“I’ve been in love with you for years,” the Gryffindor confessed in a whisper.

The magnitude of the confession and San’s response got swallowed as Wooyoung pressed his lips against San’s.

It was soft like a butterfly’s wing gracing against skin, and gentle as the love between kindred spirits, and hot like the flame dancing near them.

San had never been kissed, but he knew, to him, nothing would ever compare.

This was _it_ for him. All that yearning and wondering fell into place, and those cosmic questions suddenly had answers. Or maybe it was that the answers to impossible questions didn’t matter anymore.

Wooyoung’s lips pressed against his, and his hands on San’s face and body, was all he needed.

Finally, he tasted that kiss and it was so much better than he could have imagined. Wooyoung’s lips were soft and curious and exploring, and his hands were gentle and trembling in a way that let San know this mattered to him as much as it mattered to San.

Wooyoung sighed into his mouth; it could have been words and it could have been nothing, but San understood its meaning nonetheless: _finally_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> kinda love/hate this chapter, i can't decide if it turned out well or not lmao  
> lmk what you think ^^
> 
> twt: @hhhjoong


	7. The Ghost of the Visions

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> originally, this whole fic was going be to from san's pov only, but i couldn't picture it without including wooyoung's pov at least once
> 
> I honestly didn't know have many ideas for this chapter, so there's a little bit of everything LMAO hope you enjoy it though!! 💛

When Jeong Wooyoung woke up, that so familiar dream still knitted over his eyes, its last images swirling his mind, soon to escape him, he knew he would never walk through that mist covered field ever again.

For as long as he’d had a conscious mind and could remember things, that dream—once empty and incomprehensible—had been there. At first he hadn’t understood its meaning, and when he had met that lonely Slytherin’s eyes, his young heart had given a trembling response for something still unknown to him, but there had been the faintest whisper—a promise—of more. He had clutched onto that response like it was a lifeline, and in his first night at Hogwarts, that flickering light had appeared in that mist covered field, like an apparition or a ghost.

And inescapable, like the passage of time, that light began to grow closer to him.

Wooyoung wasn’t someone that liked inevitable and unfathomable situations, but those dreams and that light forced him to accept that he couldn’t have everything under control, that some things were best to let to their own devices, and so, as he grew up within those stone walls that held many secrets, he let the light in his dream approach him.

It wasn’t until he was thirteen, in his third year, in which he had taken _Divination_ as an elective class, that it all began to fall into place.

Like the fall and rise of the sun, Wooyoung had always found himself inexplicably drawn to one lonely Slytherin, just from a distance he glanced at him in the Great Hall or peeked at him in the corridors, invisible like a ghost he observed him. 

When Professor Taehyung had paired them up in their third year for the palm reading class, Wooyoung’s heart had rattled in his chest, anticipation nearly killing him, and the moment he had finally touched Choi San’s hands—they had been so delicate, and beautiful—Wooyoung’s dream became a vision. 

He had found himself in that mist covered field, in which he always stood lost, but he learned that day it had never been him who was lost, it was that flickering light that needed guidance out of eternal darkness. That light that had washed over him like a relieved exhale.

When Wooyoung had opened his eyes, the first thing he saw had been Choi San, and he had understood his heart’s response.

Inevitably and inexplicably, Wooyoung was always meant to fall in love with San, like the tides of the sea, in whatever shape or form they came, it was them.

Of course, Wooyoung hated it at first, that lack of control, the decided path in front of him that led him to San—or rather, led San to him.

When their fourth year arrived and came to an end, and Choi San, the lonely Slytherin, was no longer alone but under Kim Hongjoong’s wings, Wooyoung’s rival by association, he knew everything was about to change, he knew that unavoidable fate of his was closer now, more than ever.

With a hard swallow, Wooyoung had accepted his fate at fourteen.

At fifteen, the morning after finally making his peace with it, he didn’t find it that terrible anymore, not when Choi San’s lips tasted like comfort and home. Perhaps falling in love with Choi San hadn’t been the worst of inevitable fates that could have befallen Wooyoung.

It was dark in the Slytherin’s boys dorm, darker than in the Gryffindor (or Ravenclaw) Tower, where the first rays of sunshine would always filter through the windows and wake him up. In the Dungeons, under the Great Lake, there was no light, but there was warmth.

Choi San, the light of his visions, was right there by his side, curled up on himself as he was still sleeping. Wooyoung’s heart clenched in his chest as he allowed himself to lie next to him, it responded even further when he ran a shaking hand through San’s black and white hair, finding it soft as silk.

“Good morning,” San whispered with a sleep laced voice.

Wooyoung’s heart stuttered in his chest, but he kept his hand where it was.

“Morning,” he replied quietly. 

He glanced around the room, at the other beds, but it seemed the Slytherin boys were still soundly asleep.

San turned his head so he could look at Wooyoung, his eyes were full of sleep and his skin pale, but his lips were red and so inviting. 

Wooyoung stilled, and stared at him.

“That really happened, huh?” San whispered amused. He pushed himself up on his elbows, now closer to Wooyoung than before. He smiled. “I was afraid it would be a dream.”

 _So you too dreamed of me,_ Wooyoung wanted to say but kept quiet. There was so much he still wanted to explain to San: about the notes and his visions.

Wooyoung smiled back and said, “Last night was real.”

San studied him openly. He leaned forward, swaying a little due to the position he was in, and stopped millimeters from Wooyoung’s face. He was breathtaking. 

A warm look passed through San’s eyes before he closed the distance between them, kissing Wooyoung briefly but deeply. A pillow was what interrupted their kiss, it smacked the back of Wooyoung’s head. He let out a surprised yelp.

“No kissing,” grumbled one of the Slytherin boys.

Another one waved his hand at the exit.

San laughed and pushed himself completely into a sitting position. He stretched his arms above his head and yawned; what a miraculous sight, Wooyoung thought, to wake up and see San first thing in the morning. To see his dreams still on his skin, and receive those lazy smiles, to hear that raspy and sleepy tone of his voice.

Wooyoung was so incredibly grateful for his inevitable fate that had brought him there; how could he have ever hated it?

He shook his head, following San out of the Slytherin dorm into the Common Room. Some students lingered about as they welcomed the morning slowly and lazily, busy with presents and stuffed with Christmas snacks. Jongho wasn’t among them, possibly already in the Great Hall as he was an early riser.

“Should we get breakfast and spread the good news?” San asked with a yawn. He extended his hand, offering it to Wooyoung.

Wooyoung’s heart jumped with joy. He took the Slytherin’s hand in his, warm and perfect in his, always meant to fit there.

“I’m starving,” San added.

Giddy, Wooyoug grinned. “Me too,” he admitted.

Together they left the Slytherin Common Room. The corridor smelled faintly of baked goods and coffee, the scent only growing stronger the closer they got to the Great Hall, voices and laughter carrying over to them.

They spotted Hongjoong and Seonghwa already by the table, engaged in a conversation. They didn’t notice the Gryffindor and Slytherin until they stood right by their side.

Hongjoong’s eyebrows danced, shooting San a smile.

“About time,” Seonghwa said, but not unkindly. 

Wooyoung punched him playfully. “Shut up. You were way worse. The tension between you and Hongjoong was dreadful.”

Seonghwa’s cheeks flamed up. “Fuck off,” he grumbled; Hongjoong lughed amusedly.

“You have to tell me more about Seonghwa’s insufferable crush on me!” the Hufflepuff said.

“Wooyoung, _don’t_ ,” Seonghwa warned him.

“Oh, Hongjoong was just as insufferable,” San told him.

“I was not!” Hongjoong insisted.

Some things never changed, Wooyoung supposed, as Seonghwa and Hongjoong bickered back and forth while Wooyoung and San served themselves some breakfast.

“Where is Yeosang?” Wooyoung asked then, mouth full of vanilla pudding.

Seonghwa’s eyes turned playful. “Hongjoong says he found him in Mingi’s bed, cuddling.”

“I can’t believe Mingi has stolen my spot of professional Yeosang cuddler,” Wooyoung bemoaned dramatically. “I won’t forgive him!”

“Oh, shut up,” Seonghwa said. “You have now San to cuddle with.”

Wooyoung couldn’t stop his cheeks from burning.

“I wouldn’t be opposed to it,” San said slowly, his cheeks red as well, but he was smiling.

“There you have it, problem fixed,” Hongjoong said cheekily.

They settled into amicable banter, letting the breakfast drag out for as long as possible. When Yeosang and Mingi joined, playful and suggestive comments followed which the Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff gracefully ignored. Yunho and Jongho came in fairly late, both tired.

“We stayed up late playing Wizarding Chess,” Yunho admitted mid yawn. He took in Wooyoung and San and the no longer existent distance between them and smiled silently.

Jongho wasn’t as quiet.

“Wait, what’s happening here?” he inquired, pointing his index finger at them. “Did you finally make up?”

Wooyoung cleared his throat. “We uh, talked. Yes. And kissed,” he added the last bit rushed and quietly.

Jongho gasped. “Did you tell him?”

“Not yet,” Wooyoung admitted, softly kicking his friend under the table. “But I will!” he quickly said when Seonghwa’s face was already taking that scolding shape. “I will tell him everything.”

San eyed him with his head tilted, but he didn’t ask about it. Wooyoung could see the curiosity in his eyes, that question that had formed last night when Wooyoung had said those notes were about San; when Wooyoung had gotten angry at him for reading them; when San had first stumbled upon them… 

Those notes that Wooyoung had started writing down after his first night at Hogwarts, trying to understand.

“On a completely unrelated note, who is up for some _Dungeons & Dragons_?” Jongho asked giddily, looking younger with his eyes wide in excitement. “Now that you’re all friends and mingling, it’s only fair we play a round together!”

Yeosang snorted. “Fine with me.”

Seonghwa glanced at Hongjoong. “It could be interesting.”

“Alright,” Wooyoung said.

“I thought you didn’t want me there, that it was your safe place,” San teased.

Wooyoung playfully punched his shoulder. “ _Shut_!”

San laughed, delighted. There was so much fondness in his crescent shaped eyes when they were on Wooyoung. The Gryffindor’s heart beat wildly and adoringly.

It was so simple, but he’d had to get there first because it hadn’t just been him loving San, it had been San loving him too, and Wooyoung had had a hard time imagining anyone loving him. Had been terrified to be loved.

But now, with their knees and elbows brushing together as they ate breakfast that late Christmas morning with their friends, a peaceful atmosphere reigning over them, it was so uncomplicated.

He was in love with San, inevitable and simple.

**~*~**

As their winter holidays were coming to an end, San was growing a little nervous as him and Wooyoung hadn’t spoken about their relationship—were they boyfriends? Were they simply testing the waters? What was happening? There was still so much San wanted to ask about (about those notes, the visions he had mentioned…), and so much he wanted to tell Wooyoung (what a delight it was to fall for Wooyoung, that he felt that inescapable pull too…).

On the second to last day of their holidays, San seeked out the Gryffindor. It was late already, after dinner, but he couldn’t find sleep. They’d be too busy with classes and preparing further for their O.W.L.s once the holidays would be over.

He was waiting outside the Gryffindor Common Room as he had encountered the Gryffindor ghost on his way there, kindly asking her if she could fetch Wooyoung. Lee Sunmi had smiled knowingly, but agreed to his request.

Panic filled San as he realized he hadn’t prepared anything romantic for the night. He didn’t know where the conversation would lead them, if he’d end up finding the courage to properly ask out Wooyoung, if he’d finally ask him about the notes, or if they just ended up making out.

They did that a lot, kissing. San couldn’t exactly complain, it was magical. But he needed reassurance too.

When Wooyoung appeared he was already dressed in his pajamas, pulling his Gryffindor sweatshirt over his button up. He raised an eyebrow at San.

“What a pleasant visit,” he said cheekily.

“I…” San started, wavering. “I wanted to talk to you.” Wooyoung’s face fell. “Nothing negative,” he quickly added.

“Okay.” Wooyoung spread out his hands, gesturing for San to take the lead.

“How about we go up to the Astronomy Tower? No one should bother us there.”

They walked in silence, the backs of their hands brushing together. San turned his hand around slightly, expanding his fingers as he waited for Wooyoung to catch his drift. He heard the Gryffindor suck in a sharp breath before Wooyoung finally held his hand, it was warm and perfect.

San grinned.

“You’re cute,” Wooyoung said.

They walked hand in hand through the empty corridors of Hogwarts, past the knights, past portraits and pictures that hissed and cursed at them and told them they should sleep. They had to duck behind a column as Byun Baekhyun was wandering about, muttering under his breath. Eventually they made it to the Astronomy Tower unscathed.

Even after so many years, the view from the platform was still breathtaking. Especially during winter, with the snow turning the Hogwarts grounds and the Forbidden Forest and the Great Lake into a beautiful wonderland. It was a clear night, only a single, dark cloud looming in the horizon, but it would take hours for it to cover the castle and cast rain upon them, for now they had the stars and the Milky Way right above their heads, the moon only a slender sigil.

“Ah, it’s beautiful, isn’t it?” Wooyoung said, staring up.

In the night, his skin looked a dark blue, part of his face orange due to the light hanging by the door of the Astronomy Tower. What a beautiful play of lights, San thought absentmindedly.

“Yeah,” he breathed out, dragging his eyes away from Wooyoung to look up at the sky.

They’d had to stop holding hands to ascend the stairs of the Astronomy Tower, but Wooyoung was searching for San’s hand again, taking it in his. He rubbed his thumb over the back of San’s hand, smiling encouragingly.

“What did you want to talk about?” he asked, his voice serious although his eyes stayed gentle.

“I brought you here to ask about the notes,” San started slowly, he glanced hesitantly at Wooyoung. “You said you would tell me, but you haven’t.”

Wooyoung sighed, it was long and heavy. “Sorry. It’s just—I’m a bit embarrassed.”

“I won’t judge you,” San told him. “Whatever you’ll tell me, I believe you.”

Wooyoung looked at him, studying him. 

“I had this dream when I was young, I’ve been having it for as long as I can remember. I’m in a field full of mist and there I find you. At first I didn’t know it was you because we hadn’t met yet, but when we finally did meet, it made sense,” he began explaining. San held his breath, his heart beating fast. “I know it sounds crazy,” Wooyoung rushed out nervously. “But it’s the truth. When I realized they weren’t dreams but visions, it’s very overwhelming. I was only thirteen. Professor Taehyung helped me understand them. Of course, I didn’t tell him they were about _you_ , specifically. I only admitted that to Seonghwa, Yeosang, and Jongho recently, since you and I were growing closer and I didn’t have the strength in me to refuse those feelings anymore.”

Wooyoung kept studying him, waiting for a response. 

“I can’t say I’ve had visions of you since I was a child, but these past months I’ve been dreaming about you— _us_ —a lot,” he confessed. “I have felt an inexplicable pull toward you for quite some time now. I kept thinking I was delusional since I believed you hated me,” he explained. “But I’m glad that it’s not the case.” He smiled at Wooyoung, taking his hand in his. With a burst of fondness and courage, he readied his burning question. “Jeong Wooyoung,” he said. Quietly, Wooyoung echoed, ‘Choi San’. “Will you be my boyfriend?”

Wooyoung stared at him steadily before he giggled, looking away.

San’s cheeks heated up. “ _Hey_!” he protested. “Why are you laughing?”

“Sorry, it’s just—I’m really happy right now,” Wooyoung replied. “Of course I’ll be your boyfriend, San.”

They kissed then, under the stars.

**~*~**

The winter holiday morphed into their second term, mid January snow greeted them on the first day back to classes. San started that second term fresh and recovered, but mourning the holidays already. 

It had been a bliss.

After his reconciliation with Wooyoung, that magical kiss marking the beginning of their tentative relationship, the two weeks of freedom had passed in a blur. In between many (freezing) snowball fights on Hogwarts grounds with their friends, heated make out sessions in either the Slytherin Common Room or the Gryffindor Common Room when no one was around, an adventurous trip to Hogsmeade in which they discovered Seonghwa and Hongjoong had sneaked off to _Madam Puddifoot’s Tea Shop_ for a date, and many other shenanigans—and moments with Wooyoung—San didn’t want to say goodbye to the holidays.

Their O.W.L.s were approaching which meant his moments with Wooyoung would be cut shorter and shorter for the next months. They had just melted their hearts for one another, talked a little about that distance that once had existed between them, but for now they would have to settle for shared classes and those free minutes.

Just as he had predicted, after tasting a little of that freedom on Wooyoung’s lips he didn’t want to live without it. Wooyoung seemed to be just as bothered about the little time they had for one another. It was reaffirming and reassuring; San couldn’t wait for summer to arrive and have two blessed months of possibilities and adventures.

The rainy windows in the Library, lightning hushing over the sky menacingly, pulled San back to the reality. They were still deep into winter, snow lingering the windowsills and Hogwarts grounds.

Huddled together on a table in the Library, the fifth years struggled with their essays, whilst Jongho sat with Felix and Eunbin, not as stressed yet as their O.W.L.s were still over a year away. Oh, how San envied them.

“Who wants to practice _Incendio_ with me and burn this essay to the ground?” Yeosang drawled out, brushing a hand through his already messed up hair. It was sticking out in all sky’s directions, resembling more an owl’s nest than hair.

Mingi glanced up at him fondly.

“I will!” Wooyoung immediately accepted. “I will gladly burn our essays. I can’t take this any longer.”

Tiredly, San looked up from his own essay. The words swimming in front of him.

“There is a book I need,” he started tentatively, staring at Wooyoung. “Isn’t there a book you need too?”

Even if he had attempted to sound nonchalant, their friends caught on.

“You’re not subtle, San,” Yunho muttered. “Not at all.”

San glared at him as he pushed his chair away from the table, awaiting Wooyoung’s response. It was possible the two hours of studying and writing essays had fried the Gryffindor’s mind, for he stared at San in confusion.

“I don’t need any book,” he said, frowning.

Yeosang sighed. “He wants to make out with you, Woo,” he said bluntly.

“ _Oh_.”

Seonghwa held back his laughter, hiding it behind his hand. His eyes twinkled as he watched Wooyoung struggle out of his chair to follow San.

“When will you ask me to make out in the Library?” San heard Hongjoong ask.

“Never. I value my education,” Seonghwa replied.

“ _Ugh_.”

In between tall shelves of dusty and old books, San stopped Wooyoung. It was the History section, one rarely frequented. Now that San had Wooyoung there, he grew a little shy with his initial intent on distracting his boyfriend.

“Um,” he said intelligently.

Wooyoung rolled his eyes, cheeks growing pink, but he leaned forward boldly, kissing San. It wasn’t long or deep.

“There,” the Gryffindor said, grinning. “Wasn’t that what you wanted to do?”

“Well, yes…” he admitted. “I just know once I kiss you, I can’t stop.”

“I don’t see how that is a problem,” Wooyoung said. “I won’t be finishing that essay today anyway. My brain is way too fried.”

San stepped forward, lightly pushing Wooyoung against the shelf behind him. One of the books moved dangerously, but thankfully did not fall down. San didn’t know how he’d feel if Mr Do appeared to scold them; he’d never live down that embarrassment.

Without wasting another moment, San leaned down to kiss Wooyoung, sneaking one of his hands into the Gryffindor’s soft hair. It felt like silk, tickling the palm of his hand. He moved his hand down to the back of Wooyoung’s neck, holding him in place.

Wooyoung gasped into the kiss, his hands finding San’s waist.

They both knew they wouldn’t have all the time in the world in the Library, even if the History section was scarcely visited, someone would come across them eventually, and they had dinner soon, but for the time being they enjoyed it in its briefness.

**~*~**

On the last Sunday of January, the second official Quidditch match took place. Hufflepuff had won against Ravenclaw in November, now it was time for the passionately awaited Slytherin against Gryffindor match. The tension in Hogwarts was high, students leaving the castle in groups, either wearing red and gold or green and silver.

San was nervous. After their abysmal loss the previous year against Ravenclaw, in which he had been knocked out, he didn’t want to disappoint his team. It didn’t make it easier that Jeong Wooyoung—his boyfriend!—was wearing San’s Slytherin scarf as support.

“Alright!” Jinsoul called out, startling her teammates. They were in the changing room, waiting for Professor Im to call them out to the pitch. The screams and cheering was loud even through the walls. “We have won against those pesky Gryffindors before, and we can do it again! Admittedly, last year wasn’t our greatest year, but we can recover from it. We have been training long and hard for it!” Someone let out a laugh, two boys high fiving each other. Jinsoul glared at them exasperatedly. “We will win against Gryffindor! And then we will face Hufflepuff in the finals!” 

Whoops followed her short speech, the team coming together for a group cheer.

It was always a rush stepping into the Quidditch pitch, the high stands filled with all Hogwarts students and professors, a cacophony of sounds making the hairs on San’s arms and neck stand up, his blood cells rushing through his body fastly. He couldn’t wait to get on his broom.

As Jinsoul and Jiwoo faced one another, shaking their hands while Professor Im rambled on about a fair and clean game, the team Captains smiling with fake politeness and competition burning brightly in their eyes, San let his gaze roam the many stands until he found his group of friends.

His heart surged when he spotted Wooyoung, so small from down there, but it was unmistakably his wild raven hair, San’s Slytherin scarf tightly wrapped around his neck. He must have noticed San’s eyes on him for he suddenly waved both his hands above his head, the white of his teeth shining brightly.

San couldn’t find off the huge grin splitting his face.

“Jesus,” Jongho muttered, rolling his eyes. “I’ll kick you if you don’t focus.”

“Shut up,” San hissed. “I’m perfectly capable of playing Quidditch _and_ looking at Wooyoung.”

Jongho hummed noncommittally.

Soon enough Professor Im blew the whistle, galvanizing the Quidditch players. Like birds they raised into the sky at once, dispersing each to their position.

It was a Gryffindor that first took hold of the Quaffle, but Jongho was good in his position as Beater and swiftly aimed a Bludger at the Chaser, who let out a yelp, dropping the Quaffle. Eunbin grabbed it, ducking a Bludger and an attempt of another Gryffindor Chaser to block her, throwing the Quaffle at Jinsoul.

Minutes later, Slytherin marked their first goal. Cheers and boos echoed from the stands. San grinned, high fiving Jongho. He scanned the stands, where their friends were at, and found Wooyoung jumping and waving his hands.

“ _Focus_!” yelled Jongho, but it wasn’t mean-spirited.

San rolled his eyes, and flew toward the Gryffindor Chaser that carried the Quaffle. He almost got a hold of it, his fingertips grazing the ball, before it fell into the hands of a second Chaser. She aimed it at the Slytherin posts, and missed by a little.

The Slytherin Keeper, Lee Minho, threw the Quaffle at Eunbin, who dodged the Gryffindor Beaters’s Bludgers. She pretended she would throw the Quaffle at Jinsoul before she changed her mind in the last second and passed it on to San.

“And Slytherin mark their second goal, 20 to 0!” the commentator yelled, their voice followed by a wave of cheers.

The game continued like that in favor of Slytherin as they scored goal after goal, and about an hour later they were way ahead of Gryffindor. The red and gold players seemed tired and dejected. 

San felt slightly bad as he crossed paths with Yunho, one of Gryffindor’s Chasers, but Yunho offered him a tense smile. He did, however, swiftly take the Quaffle out of San’s distracted fingers, marking a goal for Gryffindor. He grinned cheekily when San stared at him, open-mouthed, blinking rapidly.

“How—?”

“You’re too slow!” Yunho said.

“I am _not_!”

But Yunho laughed, flying off to the Gryffindor goal rings.

San felt relieved, he had been worried Yunho would be angry if Slytherin won—as he had been worried Wooyoung would be angry—but it seemed they weren’t putting Quidditch above their friendship.

Just as San was about to get the Quaffle passed on by Jinsoul, Professor Im sounded the whistle, finalizing the game. San nearly dropped the Quaffle, he hadn’t been paying much attention to what was happening around the pitch.

“The Gryffindor Seeker has caught the Golden Snitch, granting their team 150 points!” the commentator announced.

San held his breath, looking at the scoreboard. A rush filled him as he realized they had won despite Gryffindor catching the Snitch—only by 20 points, but still it was a clear victory.

He landed in the middle of the pitch, his teammates following suit. They hugged and shook hands, a very teary eyed Jinsoul congratulated her team and told them she was proud of them.

“I know we still have the final game ahead, but we can beat Hufflepuff! We can—” she was rambling on and on. It was her last year at Hogwarts, San understood this was a great deal to her.

Detaching himself from Jongho’s koala grip, San searched the crowd for his boyfriend—the students from the stands had stormed down onto the pitch to congratulate and celebrate the Slytherin Team. He found Wooyoung standing not that far away, searching the crowd too. He was pink cheeked, his hair a wild mess.

Wooyoung’s twinkling eyes found San’s, a huge smile breaking out. The Gryffindor jogged over to him.

“You beat us,” he rushed out, standing very close to San.

“We did,” San affirmed. “I hope you’re not angry.”

Wooyoung laughed, he pretended to glare. “Hm, it greatly offends me, but maybe… Maybe there is a way I wouldn’t be too angry about it.” 

From somewhere Yeosang said exasperatedly, “You were literally cheering for him…”

Wooyoung turned to glare at his friend. “Don’t ruin the moment.”

“What were you thinking?” San asked, though he already knew the answer. He liked the endulge Wooyoung.

The Gryffindor tapped his chin, pretending to think about it. “A kiss,” he said. “A kiss would do.”

San grabbed Wooyoung by the green and silver scarf and pulled him up close. He kissed him with adrenaline still coursing high through his body. It was short and a little uncomfortable as San was drenched in sweat and the cold was slowly reaching his bones, making him shiver, but it was perfect nonetheless, especially since Wooyoung was smiling brightly.

**~*~**

With spring awakening the flowers and turning the Prohibited Forest into an ocean of bright greens and singing birds, the Easter holidays came, offering a few days of relief and relaxation from their approaching O.W.L.s and stressful classes.

Hogwarts grounds were as populated as they were during the first snowfall last year, students lingering about the shores of the Great Lake to dip in their toes, pushing each other dangerously close to the still cold waters, filling the air with shrieking laughter and yelps.

Just like so many after lunch, Wooyoung and San found themselves on the green grass, taking in the warm rays of sunshine while a fresh breeze blew from the lake, a perfect balance between warm and cold.

Perfectly balanced was how San could describe his current state, after three months of essays and learning spells, it was so incredibly peaceful to sit on the grounds with Wooyoung right next to him, their hands digging into the warm soul, their fingers interlaced. 

“I had a dream like this once,” Wooyoung suddenly mumbled. “It felt just… right.”

“A dream or a vision?” San questioned, glancing at the Gryffindor.

Wooyoung smiled. “Maybe it was a vision. Sometimes I couldn’t tell the difference between wishful dreams and visions,” he admitted. “Some visions seemed just too perfect to be true.”

San bumped his shoulder into Wooyoung, getting him to look up at him. “Are you saying this is perfect?”

Wooyoung glared at him, but it was more adorable than anything else with his pink cheeks and fond eyes. He mumbled out an answer that was muffled by San tenderly pressing his lips against Wooyoung’s.

“Can I ask you something?” San wondered after pulling away.

“You can,” Wooyoung said.

“Why were you so opposed to us becoming friends?” San asked, his tone more playful than serious, even if he really wanted to know.

Wooyoung pressed his lips together, embarrassment flooding his face. “Well… It’s a bit annoying to have that feeling your future is going steadily towards a direction and you can’t do anything against it. I guess I was just being very rebellious.”

San laughed, good-heartedly. “So you say this is fate?”

“Yes,” he breathed, his gaze intense and calculating. He was gauging San’s reaction carefully. Admittedly, it wasn’t every day someone claimed their love was fate, predestined. It was strong, powerful. San could understand Wooyoung’s fear. “And I was terrified you didn’t feel the same. Imagine how much that would have sucked… It mostly boils down to me protecting myself.”

“Well, lucky for you that I really like you, Wooyoung.”

“Lucky me.”

“I was scared too, you know, that you would break my heart. You’re frustratingly hard to read.”

Wooyoung looked surprised at that. “And I feared I was always too straight-forward and easy to read as a book.” He huffed out a short laugh. “Despite the complications, I’m glad it worked out. I’m glad we both were brave enough.”

“Me too,” San agreed. “Me too.”

They shared a look, the Gryffindor’s eyes twinkling in the afternoon’s sun. He looked so beautiful. San could just sit there, by the shores of the Black Lake—sit anywhere—and study Jeong Wooyoung, he’d never get tired of it. From his prominent nose, to the playful tug in his lips and the mischievous glint in his eyes. His eyes that shimmered in the sun like a shell that changed colors, but instead Wooyoung’s eyes shimmered from that playfulness to a tender look to something nostalgic and sad, as though he constantly carried all his emotions at once, letting them be studied like a kaleidoscope. Wooyoung’s gestures and expressions that he lived with the fullest sentiment, not holding back, was endlessly entertaining to observe.

San leaned forward, pressing his lips against Wooyoung’s, feeling the remnants of his smile on his mouth, in his heart, and he felt a strong surge of affection and gratefulness that brought tears to his eyes.

He pulled back slightly, letting their foreheads rest against one another, and mumbled, “I love you.”

Wooyoung blinked, his eyes crossed as he tried to maintain eye contact. San almost burst out laughing, adoration growing and growing in his chest. “I love you too.” 

The Gryffindor leaned in for another kiss, chaste and tender, before he sat back, staring at San openly. His eyes caught on one of the tears that had escaped San’s eyes, he reached out his fingers to catch it.

“Why are you crying?” he asked softly, his eyebrows furrowed in puzzlement.

San chuckled embarrassed, wiping his tears away. “I’m just really happy right now. I didn’t know I could feel like this, and it’s overwhelming, but in a good way,” he reassured Wooyoung. “I felt a bit lost before, and confused, and now it’s this endless relief pouring out.” He shrugged self-consciously, hoping he wasn’t too cheesy or too much.

Wooyoung smiled warmly, the sun bright in his eyes. “I felt the same way.”

Approaching footsteps interrupted their little date, but they didn’t mind it. Their friends plopped down on the green grass next to them and just like that the tranquility of the afternoon was filled with laughter and joy—the eight of them. 

Always the eight of them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> okay wow.. it's finished!!
> 
> [sappy end note incoming]
> 
> It's been a year since I started writing this series, and it was a challenge because i usually wrote shorter fics without much plot and rather focused on emotions, so this whole series was very different from what i usually write, but as someone who loves writing and possibly wants to publish original work one day, this was a delightful journey. 
> 
> It brought me a lot of joy to write this series, and i never thought it would actually get the response it did and that so many people would enjoy it and cherish it, like it still baffles me and on bad days i reread the comments you all left, and it brings me warmth and makes me cry. 
> 
> Thank you so much for all the support and encouraging messages!! It means so, so much to me!!💛💛
> 
> -jack💛


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